


Twice Cursed (Destiel)

by CayCay



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Destiel Story, M/M, Nephilim, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-08-18 04:06:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 55
Words: 65,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8148604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CayCay/pseuds/CayCay
Summary: Cas has always been different from the other angels. Always. But he's never known why. When he makes a shocking discovery about himself, there's only one person he can count on. Which also happens to be the one person who is in danger by knowing the truth. And now he must choose between protecting the one he cares about, or becoming a silent guardian. Between his decision, there is much he needs to remember. Will Dean really stand for all his insecurity?





	1. On Their Own

**Author's Note:**

> This will be updated every week, so please enjoy and feel free to comment and tell me what you think! Don't forget to leave a kudos if you enjoy it! And it is my first story, so go easy on me.

Cas was at war. And his opponent was a formidable one to say the least. He squared his shoulders and set his jaw, never once considering backing down. He just glared at his rival, and his rival never budged. Cas wanted to say he wasn’t intimidated. But of course, that would be a lie, and he figured it was wrong for angels to lie.  
Castiel barely took a breath as he stared his adversary down. He knew that this wasn’t going to be easy. That it was going to be a grueling massacre for one side or the other. It would be constant danger for both sides, and even Cas feared the outcome. He gritted his teeth as his fingers worked nervously away at the buttons. It was now or never.  
“Yo, Cas!” Dean suddenly called from the living room of the bunker, snapping him out of thought. “Did you find his blog yet?”  
“Uh, I almost cracked the code,” Cas lied.  
“For the love of Christ,” Dean plundered into the room, a beer bottle in hand. “I wrote his friggin’ password down. What could possibly be giving you trouble?”  
“Google,” Cas said darkly.  
Dean set the bottle down on their makeshift coaster, which was actually one of Sam’s many books on the supernatural. A single bead of condensation seeped from the unsealed cap, sliding down the bottle as it began to form a ring of the water around it.   
“Alright, Steve Jobs,” Dean lightly shouldered Cas aside. He didn't have time for this. He quickly typed in the URL and reached the site. He logged on to his little brother’s blog, not surprised when Cas stared at him in amazement.  
Dean took a swig of the bottle, leaning back in the chair. Cas put his hands on the desk, staring at the screen intently. This laptop was by far the worst thing Sam and Dean had invested in. Well, mostly Sam. He was the smart one, after all.  
Bored, Cas surveyed the bunker. The wallpaper was old and yellowing in the corners, a few brown stains from where water must have leaked in. The mahogany floors were chipped and faded, and the books were dusty and covered in cardboard. Except for the ones Sam always read. Those were clean and in perfect order.  
Cas absently rubbed his finger over a few pencil shavings lying next to the laptop. Sam always yelled at Dean for not sharpening pencils over the trash can. Cas seldomly saw Dean use pencils, but sometimes he’d write things down in their father’s journal.  
Sam had only been gone for a week, and Cas had already noticed a change in Dean. He seemed to be more open to talk to Cas, more excited to see him. But he was also more stubborn and adamant than ever. Cas honestly wasn’t quite sure whether it was going to turn out to be a good change or a bad one.  
Cas began to count the ebony-colored flecks in the white ceiling tiles. A random task to pass the time. He had once counted all the stars visible from Orange County, California. It was something that angels simply had time to do. He’d had no other duties, and it was before either of the Winchesters were even born, so he stayed there for days until every star was visible. Then he’d counted. Even now, he remembered the exact amount.  
“There,” Dean got up, the old leather chair squeaking under the metal buttons on the back pockets of his jeans as he did so. Cas was pulled out of his thoughts. “Now read that and see if you can find anything about this so-called pack. If you can manage to figure out how to scroll down.”  
Cas gave Dean a look as he and his beer exited the room. He must have been drinking for a while. Cas could smell the musty alcohol on his breath, and his words had slurred together like they did when he was going to pass out.  
Dean got out his phone and dialed Sam. “Hey, little bro.”  
Cas listened in from where in stood in the other room, hearing Sam’s static-filled replies. “Oh, hi, Dean. What’s up?”  
“We’re on your blog. Um, is there anything on there about the… Bloodmoon pack, or whatever they call themselves?”  
“Well, yeah, I mean, I posted some research, but only what I could find on the internet, which isn’t much,” Cas heard Sam say. Sam sounded tired and a bit surprised, like he wasn’t expecting Dean to call.  
“Okay, thanks, Sammy,” Dean said with a small chuckle, making Cas smile a little himself. “Have fun, okay?”  
“Dean, I’m here to track a vampire. This isn’t vacation.”  
“Oh, please. As if all trips to Vegas aren’t a vacation,” Dean scoffed. “You’re gonna be living the dream.”  
Sam sighed, sounding like he was trying not to smile. “You always could have come with me, you know.”  
“And I would have, had it not been for the werewolf infestation in Normal,” Dean replied easily. “I gave you the better job.”  
“Heh,” Sam chuckled. “Well, I’ll see you when I get back, okay?”  
“Yeah, see ya,” Dean sounded like he was smiling. Cas snickered under his breath. It was good to know that Dean could still be made to smile, even after everything he’d been through. Cas took a breath.  
About twenty seconds later, Dean returned, looking just as ill-tempered as he had before contacting his brother. Cas was concerned. Either Dean missed Sam and wouldn’t dare admit it, or he was putting on a lighthearted show for his brother.  
“Was that Sam?” Cas asked, acting like he hadn’t eavesdropped. To make himself seem innocent, he folded his arms in front of him and drummed his fingers against his shoulder.  
“Yeah,” Dean said, scrolling down his brother’s blog, pretending to focus attentively on the words, but Cas knew his mind was elsewhere.  
Cas watched curiously as Dean mouthed the words he was reading. “What did he say?”  
Not that Cas didn’t already know. He just wanted to make a conversation with his troubled and possibly drunk friend.  
“Just that there’s some research on his blog,” Dean muttered.  
“Dean?” Cas asked slowly. He wasn’t sure how far he could take this conversation without Dean snapping at him.  
Dean glanced at him, not responding.  
“Are you alright?” Cas said, trying to keep his voice gentle and indifferent at the same time. He knew Dean didn’t like it when people cared too much about him.   
“I’m fine,” Dean said pointedly, standing up with the laptop in hand and storming out the door, slamming it behind him.   
Cas sighed, looking down. He wished Dean was his only problem. But here recently, he hadn’t been feeling much like an angel. Angels were supposed to always know what the right thing to do was, and they never doubted their feelings. But Cas? Cas was different. His emotions were almost…human, here of late.


	2. Alcohol and Werewolves

Dean had gone back into the living room. He’d been uncharacteristically silent since he’d last spoken to Sam. He’d also acted as though he was angry at Cas for some reason. He hadn’t been even close to half as talkative, and when he did speak, it was all spiteful remarks and wisecracks that sort of stung, but could be ignored.  
He was drunk. Cas saw that clearly now. And Cas worried for his friend. He knew that many humans died every day because of alcohol poisoning reaching their bloodstream. The last thing he wanted to see was Dean getting hurt because of something as senseless as beer. It definitely didn’t seem worth it.  
“Dean,” Cas said, coming in. “How many of those have you drank?” he gestured to the array of empty bottles.  
Dean glanced at him. “Don’t see why it would matter,” he replied coldly, his words sounding as though they didn’t have spaces in between them.  
Cas caught Dean absently picking at a torn piece of leather on the couch. It was a small and rather insignificant tear, but it was still something to distract Dean from the conversation. Cas looked at him, concern overriding all his other feelings right then.  
“Because I get the sense you’re intoxicated,” Cas said simply.  
“Drunk?” Dean scoffed, getting up and coming dangerously close to Cas. “Me? You think I’m stupid enough to go and get drunk right before a big werewolf showdown?”  
“Dean, please,” Cas said helplessly.  
“Nah, you know what?” Dean smiled a drunk smile. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m just drinking myself stupid tonight because I don’t wanna deal with anything right now.”  
“Dean, come on,” Cas began to plead. He hated it when Dean got this way. Especially when Sam wasn’t around. Sam was typically the only one who could convince him that he was on the last bottle and that it was time for bed anyway.  
“Tell you what, Cas. You think I’m drinking too much, and I don't think I’m drinking enough. How about you come take this little old bottle from me, and I’ll stop drinkin’ for the night, then I’ll hit the hay. How about it?”  
“I don’t want to do that,” Cas protested, desperate at this point. Dean was really starting to worry him.  
“Well, then. You can go ahead and be a candy-ass coward that can’t do a simple little thing like taking a bottle. But shut up and let me drink what I want,” Dean took another drink, and Cas sighed. He knew he had to do it. Dean looked hazardously drunk by now.  
“I’m sorry, Dean,” Cas said, wincing as he walked over and swiped the bottle from Dean’s hand.  
“Now, there’s the big tough angel I thought I was talking to,” Dean smirked, making a sloppy lunge for the bottle.  
Cas grimaced as he pulled it away. Dean grabbed for it again, and Cas threw it away from them. It shattered on the floor, beer sloshing all over the hardwood floor. Dean laughed, a low, gravelly sound in the back of his throat.  
“And who’s going to clean that up?”  
Cas shook his head and looked down. “Please go to sleep now, Dean.”  
Dean smiled, but there was no happiness or humor in the expression. “You think just because you’re friends with God you can boss me around?”  Cas put a hand over his eyes, exasperated. He couldn’t understand why Dean drank if this was the only affect. There was no way this feeling was a good one.  
Suddenly Dean collapsed backwards onto the desk behind him, and he slid down so he was propped up against it. He’d finally passed out.  
Cas breathed a sigh of relief as he looked down at Dean. The floor looked undeniably painful to lay on, so Cas reached down and gathered Dean into his arms. He carried him upstairs to his room and laid him down. He watched him for almost five straight minutes when Dean began to shiver.  
Cas snagged a gray blanket from a chair by the large desk in the corner of the room. He gently threw it over top of Dean, shaking his head. Dean immediately stopped with the chills, curling up under the thick wool-like blanket.  
Dean cringed in his sleep, shaking, but this time not from the cold. He was having a bad dream, something that had become increasingly normal for the older Winchester. His breathing was fast and Cas listened to his heart pounding. Whatever nightmare he was having this time, it was definitely not good.  
Cas pulled a chair up next to Dean, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. To Cas’s surprise, he calmed down almost immediately. His breathing slowed and his heartbeat returned to normal. Maybe that’s all Dean ever really needed. Was just knowing that someone was there, looking out for him. Well, he could rest assured that Cas always would be. From now until the end of Dean’s life, Cas would be there for him.  
Guardian angels weren’t really existent. No, the angels were far too busy to deal with just one human. But Cas knew that if guardian angels were assigned, he would be assigned to look after Dean Winchester. Not that he had a problem with that. Though it did seem like Dean was more of a… handful, than most humans.  
Cas chuckled at the thought. Of course, out of all the humans he could have been stuck with, he got stuck with the one that caused more trouble in one day than most humans did in their whole lives.  
Dean finally was sleeping peacefully again. Cas exhaled deeply, happy to finally see his friend relaxing. For once in a really long time, Dean almost looked… content.

~the next morning~

Cas sat in the living room, reading a book about a werewolf named Lucian. He was one of the more recent werewolves in history. In the colonial days, he’d slaughtered over 350 people. He even kept a journal of his victims. They were all recorded here in this book. Some of the pages were even copied directly from the journal.  
Cas heard Dean in the bathroom, retching. He heard vomit hitting water and shook his head. He knew that Dean hated this part. He called it a hangover, if Cas’s memory served him well enough. Normally when Sam was here, he’d just rub Dean’s back and talk to him in a gentle voice.  
Cas decided to do the same thing. He went in and saw Dean slouched over the toilet, heaving and trying to sit up straight. Cas had to avert his eyes, hating seeing Dean in this state. He almost felt guilty.  
“Christ,” Dean coughed. “This is a bad one.”  
“It’s going to be alright, Dean,” Cas said gently, moving his hand over Dean’s back in slow, gentle circles.  
Dean squeezed his eyes shut. “My head is killing me.”  
Cas touched a hand to Dean’s temple. Dean looked utterly awestruck as his headache subsided. “Is that better?”  
“So much. Thanks, Cas,” Dean groaned sincerely as he threw up again. Cas continued to rub his back and shush him.  
About twenty minutes later, Dean looked mostly better. He’d gotten dressed and had stopped throwing up everything he ate since the eighth grade. He looked at Cas.  
“Guess it’s time to go murder some werewolves?”  
Cas smiled, and Dean returned the look with a gentle smirk of his own.


	3. The Unplanned Plan of Attack

Cas and Dean stood outside the werewolves’ place. There were supposedly over two dozen in this pack. Nothing the Winchesters couldn’t handle. But Dean was the only Winchester right now. Cas was filling in for Sam as best he could. Up until a few hours ago, he’d thought he was doing pretty good. Clearly not. Dean had even gone so far as to suggest Cas wait in the Impala while he killed a bunch of werewolves.  
Cas kicked at a rock, liking the scuffing sound his shoes made against the concrete. It was a very deep and unique sound that Cas really enjoyed. Dean, on the other hand, took long, easy strides that were both silent and efficient. Dean moved almost like a cat. He looked quiet and fierce and deadly. No werewolf would be stupid enough to cross him.  
“Dean, are you sure this is a good idea?” Cas asked, looking up at the late Victorian mansion. It screamed supernatural.   
“Of course I’m sure,” Dean looked almost offended. Cas immediately wished he could rephrase his words.  
The two of them slowly approached. Cas knew that all he had to do to make sure all of them were dead was show them his true form. But it was too risky, and he just couldn’t do that with Dean so nearby.  
“I trust you,” Cas said, trying to keep his friend calm. “But these werewolves seem strong. They live in such a large pack. Is it safe to fight them all?”  
“Whether it’s safe or not doesn’t matter. They kill people, and for that they deserve to die,” Dean snapped, not feeling like explaining his logic to Cas, who seemed distracted as it was already.  
Suddenly, a younger guy landed in front of them. From the roof of the porch, which was a good fifteen feet up. As the boy stood up, it was clear that he was a werewolf, though at first glance he was absolutely ordinary.  
He was tall and thin, with short brown hair and blue eyes. He had a short scruff of a beard covering the bottom half of his face, and his nails were chewed down almost as short as they could be, their edges jagged. He had thick black glasses and a thick gold ring in his left eyebrow. He wore a plaid button-down and blue jeans with white and green Nike sneakers. Nothing really put up a flag about him.  
Except his eyes. His pupils were dilated so much that his eyes almost looked black. A signature mark of a werewolf about to attack.   
Cas knew that most angels wouldn’t bother themselves with something as unimportant as this. So again it begged the question: what kind of angel was he? He felt human emotions, he did things that no other angel did, and he spent more time with the Winchesters than he did with any angel. He wanted to know why he was so different.   
“Who are you? Why are you here?” the boy asked, casually pulling out a phone and pretending to text. The floorboards beneath him creaked as he shifted his weight from his right foot to his left.  
Dean rolled his eyes. “Listen, fleabag. You can make this easy or you can make it hard. Which one of you is leader?”  
“Wait, you know we’re werewolves?” the boy looked shocked, tucking his phone in his back pocket. He stepped forward, baring sharp fangs. “How could you be stupid enough to knowingly come to the den of the Bloodmoon pack?”  
“Well, I’m a hunter,” Dean’s hand shot out, faster than the strike of a cobra, latching around his prey’s throat and dragging him close. “Now I’m going to ask again. Where’s your leader, you son of a bitch?”  
“I’m right here,” a gruff voice snarled from above.  
Dean dropped the younger werewolf, backing up so he could back off the porch and look at the roof. Cas watched him as the leader in question jumped down to stand directly behind Dean. So close his breath tickled the back of Dean’s neck. Dean tensed, not turning and not looking at all shaken.  
The man behind Dean was even taller than Sam, which was unbelievable in itself. He had short reddish-brown hair and a long scruff of a beard around his mouth. He looked to be maybe thirty-five, and he was very big and muscular. His eyes were bright yellow, and they were swimming with bloodlust. He wore black slacks and a black shirt under a black jacket and black boots. Everything was black then more black.  
“My name is Lucas,” he growled, sounding both polite and venomous all at the same time. “And I consider myself the alpha of the Bloodmoon pack. That were-moron you were just trying to intimidate would qualify as an omega, so he’s not important to me.”  
“He’s not, but I am,” voice said from behind Cas.  
Cas swallowed as he felt an angel blade at his neck. Possibly his own angel blade. He should have sensed her behind him. What was going on with him here of late?  
“Hello, Mariah. Boys, this is my beta, or my second in command in case either of you are as dull as you look.”  
“Let the angel go,” Dean growled.  
“Angel?” the female behind Cas seemed utterly shocked. “This waste of good looks is supposed to be an angel?”  
“Yeah. He’s supposed to be,” Dean snapped, glaring at Cas, obviously furious at him for letting himself be taken off guard like that.  
Cas felt the hurt in his heart at what Dean said. He knew that among angels he was already an outcast. But if even humans saw how out of place Cas was in Heaven and Earth alike, what did that mean?  
“Well, he’s very good looking,” the female said breathily in his ear. He felt her lips move down his neck, and he had to hold back a shudder.  
Cas jerked in her grasp, but the blade brushed up against his throat, so he stopped struggling. He looked at Dean with apologetic eyes.  
“I said,” Dean sounded ever patient. “Let the angel go.”  
“Or what?” Lucas sneered, crossing his arms behind Dean.   
“Or this,” with blinding speed, Dean whirled around and grabbed the alpha werewolf’s shoulder, twisting him around so he was in a headlock with Dean’s silver knife at his throat.  
Lucas swallowed, chuckling anxiously. “You really wanna do that? If you kill me, your friend dies.”  
“And that’s two less inhuman bastards I gotta deal with,” Dean replied. Cas pretended that remark didn’t hurt. “So what’s it gonna be?”  
There was a deafening silence as the alpha weighed his options. Which, of course, there was only one.  
“Release the angel, Mariah,” Lucas finally commanded.  
She smirked. “Hmph,” she decided, throwing Cas forward with surprising force for how small she was. He managed to turn so he landed on his back. He winced. The she-werewolf tossed his angel blade down next to him.  
“Cas!” Dean said sternly. “Are you okay?”  
When Cas didn’t answer, Dean repeated himself, louder and more harshly.  
“Yes,” Cas finally managed to say as he got up to stand beside Dean.  
“Good,” and with that, Dean slashed his blade across the huge werewolf’s throat, killing him instantly.


	4. Pack Hunters

“You liar!” the she-werewolf roared in fury. She lunged forward, shifting into her mostly-wolf form and baring gleaming white fangs. Dean readied his knife and prepared himself to counter her attack.  
Cas would have worried about her if there weren’t other, more pressing concerns. Over twenty werewolves had gathered around them, each dropped to all fours and ready to pounce. There were older ones, younger ones, even a child. Each of them looked vicious and ready to kill on command of their new leader.  
Mariah, as Cas had heard Lucas call her, hadn’t attacked Dean. She’d paused halfway. And an unsettling silence fell over the werewolves, the angel, and the hunter. A slow breeze whistled through the crowd.  
“This is our family,” she announced.  
Every wolf tipped its head back and howled in agreement. It was as if it was a battle cry, or perhaps a victory shout. Dean shook his head.  
“Why are they howling? Are they hurt or something?” he’d never heard a werewolf do that before, and Sam definitely didn’t have anything on why werewolves would howl.   
“Dean, they’re wolves,” Cas said.  
“So?”  
“Wolves howl when they’re closing in on their prey,” Cas clarified with a nervous look. The male werewolf directly in front of him licked his lips hungrily.  
“What does that make us?” Dean looked around as the werewolves came closer. There were far too many to take alone.   
“Lunch,” Mariah said with a cruel grin. “Dinnertime, Bloodmoon! Enjoy!”  
They snarled as they all came forward. Cas knew this wasn’t going to end well when all Dean had was a knife. Cas had to do this on his own. He laid a hand on Dean’s shoulder, and they reappeared far away from the werewolves’ mansion.   
“Stay here,” he said urgently.  
“Cas, what are you thinking?” he snapped.  
“They’ll kill you, Dean. I’ll take care of this. I promise,” Cas tried to convince both himself and Dean that it would be alright.  
“Are you nuts?” Dean grabbed Cas’s wrist.   
Cas pulled away. “I’ll be fine.”  
“That’s a lie and you know it!” Dean snapped, following closely as Cas started to walk away. His voice was borderline desperate.  
Cas pushed him back as hard as he could, and Dean almost lost his balance. He looked at Cas, shocked. Cas hated making Dean think for even one second that he didn’t care or that he was going to leave him behind.   
“Stay here,” Cas repeated as he teleported back to where the wolves were trying to figure out where they’d gone.  
“There he is!” one of them shouted.   
Suddenly the whole pack was charging toward Cas. He took a deep breath. They were closing in at a speed Cas didn’t even know werewolves could reach. There was no way he could take them all without doing something risky.  
He was ready to shift into his true form and kill them all, but he couldn’t shift when he tried for some reason. That wasn’t good. Without being able to kill them all at once, chances were they actually would kill Cas first.  
Cas caught the first one as he made his move, using his angel blade to slice through the werewolf’s throat. Two more had already jumped on him, and they were snapping at him as saliva strung from their sharp canines. He had to stay standing. Only if he stayed standing could he handle all of them, and even then it would be a stretch.  
It was soon clear that he wasn’t going to get very far without help. He wasn’t about to bring Dean back here, though. And he couldn’t retreat. If he did, Dean would just come straight back there and try to kill them all on his own. As tough as Dean was, even he couldn’t take down a notorious pack of strong werewolves alone.  
He had already taken down maybe ten, but the remaining fifteen were only getting more angry, and trying harder. They’d been biting him, tearing at him with their fangs, and it was beginning to hurt. And bleed, shockingly enough. Something was wrong. He couldn’t use any of his powers.  
He managed to kill another just as a pair of canine teeth sunk into the back of his neck. He gritted his teeth, groaning in pain as he tossed the young she-werewolf over his head and knocking her to the ground. He could hear Dean praying for him. Quite desperately. He could see him in his mind’s eye, pacing the forest and shouting for Cas to come back.  
Cas closed his eyes for a second, trying to catch a breath, but the child werewolf, a small blonde girl, attacked him. Without knowing who or what she was, he spun her around and slammed her into a tree with all of the force he could manage, cracking her skull immediately. Cas heard the bone-crunching blow connect way before it actually connected. It was a sound that sickened him. She died with wide-eyed fear forever locked in her expression.  
“No,” Cas whispered, realizing what he’d just done.  
Another werewolf, an older female, shrieked in horror at her dead child. She dove on Cas, using sharp claws to slash at his eyes. The nails ended up sinking into his cheek rather than his eye, thankfully, but the sting was still there.  
Soon enough, all but three were dead. Cas could barely move. The only thing that kept him going was that he made a promise that he could handle this. He managed to kill a large male werewolf, wincing.  
He panted, barely able to breathe as the next to last werewolf attacked him. Another large male. It sunk its fangs into Cas’s neck just as he stabbed it in the chest with what little strength he had left. He finally couldn’t stand anymore. He collapsed onto his back, propping himself up on his palms.   
“So I’m a little impressed,” Mariah laughed. “You actually managed to take down the pack. But you don’t seem to get what a wolf does. It joins a pack to survive. Sure, there are some family bonds, but when it loses a pack, a wolf will leave to go find a stronger pack, sometimes forming one of its own. So after I kill you, I’m going to make a larger, stronger pack and use it to kill your boyfriend.”  
Wait, did she mean Dean? Cas knew it wasn’t the time, but he found himself blushing. His entire body hurt, making him cry out if he moved too much.  
“I won’t let you hurt Dean,” he managed, the pain starting to become unbearable. He coughed up blood.  
“Let me?” Mariah roared. “Oh, you’re too funny! You really think it’s about letting me? Now hold still so I don’t get blood all over me.” She held his angel blade at his throat.  
A bloody knife suddenly protruded from Mariah’s throat. Not two seconds later, her body convulsed and her eyes turned skyward. She screamed and collapsed, and Cas managed to shove her off of him.   
“Cas!” Dean shouted with a critical tone in his normally calm and authoritative voice. “Cas, are you okay?”  
Cas would have answered had everything not gone dark for him.


	5. Not So Understanding

Cas awoke to seeing Dean sitting on a chair next to the couch, watching him intently. He swallowed and tried to put on a falsely at ease expression.  
“Hello, Dean,” he said, wincing as he sat up.  
“Fuck your hello,” Dean snapped. “I have about ninety questions that you’d better answer. The first one being, what the hell were you thinking?”  
“They almost killed me, Dean. Imagine what they would have done to a human.”  
“At least I could have helped you,” Dean crossed his arms, looking much more than just displeased with Cas. “Second question: Why didn’t you just show them your true form or whatever? You know, flashy flashy light show thing?”  
“I tried. For some reason my powers have been failing,” Cas replied quickly, trying to convince Dean that it wasn’t either of their faults.   
“We’ll come back to that,” Dean decided. “Third: How did they kick your ass so bad? I mean, those bites shouldn’t have even bled.”  
“Like I said, my abilities as an angel are not working,” Cas said, desperate to understand it himself.  
“Okay, then. Fourth: How did you pass out? Angels aren’t even supposed to be able to sleep,” Dean took a drink of his bottle, and Cas almost protested, until he saw that it was just Deer Park water.  
“I don’t know,” Cas said.  
“It just doesn’t make sense to me. I mean- how could-?”  
“I said I don’t know, Dean!” Cas yelled, then immediately felt guilty. He rarely raised his voice at either of the Winchesters. Less to Dean.  
“Okay, okay. Last question,” Dean said quietly.   
“Yes?”  
“How do you feel?”  
Cas hesitated. The question caught him off guard. He hadn’t expected Dean to show any concern whatsoever. “Uh… better. Much better. I’m not healing at normal speeds, but I’ll be fine,” he answered. “How are you?”  
“Friggin’ perfect,” Dean replied.   
Cas took a moment to survey his surroundings. It was probably early morning, seeing as thick rays of glimmering sunshine streamed through the window in the kitchen. He was lying on his back, and he had no idea how Dean had gotten them here. He was covered head to toe in bites and scratches, and he felt terrible, even if he’d told Dean otherwise.  
“Dean, I’m sorry,” he said suddenly. He realized that all of the worst wounds had been cleaned and covered. There was a white patch of gauze on his neck.  
“I know,” Dean said gently. “But thanks. You did probably save my sorry ass, and a hell of a lot of other people along with me. Those werewolves wouldn’t have stopped with us.”  
“Maybe,” Cas said, trying and failing to sit up.   
“Easy,” Dean mumbled, forcing him back down as gently as he could. “You need to rest. Sam called and said the vampires are heading South.”  
“Vampires?” Cas emphasized the plural.  
“Yeah, it seems old Count Drac has a chick with him. They’re both causing problems up and down the coast.”  
“Will Sam be okay?”  
“He’s fine. It’s only two bloodsuckers,” Dean said, confident in his little brother, which had been a new thing ever since they’d cured Dean of being a demon.  
“Dean?” Cas said slowly, not sure if he wanted Dean to know what he was thinking, but deciding it didn’t matter.  
“Yeah?”  
“Back there at the werewolves’ place. I killed so many of them…” he trailed off, wishing that Dean could just read his mind so he didn’t have to figure out how to phrase it.  
“So? They were killers. So many innocent people were dying. Please tell me that’s not what’s bugging you.”  
Cas wasn’t sure what to say. What should he say, that he killed a kid werewolf and was feeling terrible about it? He didn’t think Dean would understand. But he had to try. “There was a child,” he finally admitted.   
“A human?” Dean said, sounding horrified.  
“No, no. She was a werewolf, but she looked to be no more than seven years old. I didn’t realize she was a child, and I killed her,” Cas finally got the words out.   
Dean’s eyes were blank for a second. “And that’s the problem?”  
“Yes!” Cas said, wishing that he could talk to Sam instead. Sam would be understanding and know what to say. Dean just wasn’t empathetic enough to really talk to. Dean really only understood his own feelings.  
“Look, man. You did what you had to do. I mean, the only other option was get killed by a crazy seven-year-old, am I right?”  
Cas was surprised. It was a simple, kind of basic logic, but it helped. “Yes, I suppose you’re right,” he nodded once.  
They stayed quiet for a few minutes, listening to the sound of sparrows outside. Their song was muffled and didn’t match up quite right, but Cas thought it was beautiful. Then he looked down upon realizing what he had to do.  
“Dean?”  
“Shoot,” the hunter glanced at him.   
“I have to go.”  
“What?” Dean looked at him.  
“There’s something I need to do,” Cas explained, managing to sit up. But when he tried to stand, he collapsed right into Dean, who had also stood up.   
Dean caught him, then eased him back down. “What are you trying to do now? Whatever it is, it’s going to have to wait until you're better.”  
“I have to go see Metatron. He’s the only one who will be able to explain what’s happening to me.”  
“Okay, that douchebag can stay behind bars until hover cars are retro. You or me ain’t going anywhere near that guy! Especially you. He manipulated you once, and he can do it again. Plus, why would he know?”  
“He’s more clever than you give him credit for. And so am I. I won’t be so naive this time. I don’t want to fix Heaven anymore.”  
“Fine. So I get to go with you, right?”  
“Yes, I won’t go without you,” Cas said honestly. He needed Dean with him if he was going to face Metatron.  
Dean nodded. “Alright, Cas. As soon as your neck doesn’t look like it got shredded by a pack of hungry dogs, we can go see Metatron about your angel problems. You sure it’s not just puberty?” he teased.   
Cas chuckled. “I don’t think so,” he was secretly very grateful for Dean’s support on this. It was times like this that Cas admitted to needing a little help.  
“Metatron will try to trick us both, you know. He knows how to get inside our heads. He’s good at that. We should really bring Sam,” Dean commented, playing with a bottle cap he’d found on the floor.  
“No, it’s okay. We won’t let him get inside our heads.”  
Dean and Cas looked at each other for a few minutes, each wanting to say something but not knowing what. It didn’t really matter to Cas anyway. He knew Metatron would try to manipulate them both, but with Dean there, he was sure he could fight it.   
“This wound will be better tomorrow,” Cas declared, feeling it already beginning to heal up nicely.  
“Then it looks like we best plan on seeing that douchebag around four o’clock,” Dean smirked at him. Cas couldn’t help but smile.


	6. Let's Hit The Road

The wound was indeed better tomorrow. It actually seemed to be healing quite nicely. Cas stood up and smiled. He felt good. Dean had passed out on the hard wooden chair he’d sat next to the couch, and he looked downright uncomfortable.  
“Dean,” Cas shook him lightly. “Wake up. We have to go.”  
“Ten minutes,” Dean groaned.  
“Dean,” Cas shook him again, chuckling. “Get up.”  
The sun streamed in, twinkling and glowing. A single ray of the blinding light was bent off of a mirror, reflecting a bright rainbow over Dean’s left eye. Cas smiled, thinking it looked kind of endearing. He forced Dean to his feet.  
“Ugh, Cas. I told you, I’m fucking nocturnal. Let me sleep,” he groaned.  
It was truly really early in the morning. Especially for someone who stayed up until two o'clock. Which was something that Dean Winchester, for reasons unknown to Cas, did increasingly often.  
“We have a very rude angel to visit with,” Cas said sympathetically.  
Dean wavered on his feet. “Can’t we visit him tonight?”  
Cas rolled his eyes, still smiling. Dean was quite amusing when you were trying to wake him up. Quite grouchy, as well.  
“Go get some food, Dean. I have a quick errand I need to run. When I get back, we can leave,” Cas said, guiding Dean over to the table and making him sit down. He looked down at the exhausted hunter. After probably dragging Cas two miles? No wonder.  
“Yeah, whatever,” Dean said blearily.  
Cas left to do his thing and Dean was left to sit alone at the table, trying to figure out where he was and who’d brought him here.  
Dean decided on some toast and a beer. Nothing to greet the day like heavy carbs and alcohol. Two of Dean’s all time favorite things. Dean wondered what Cas had to do, and why he hadn’t asked Dean if he wanted to go. Since Sam had left, Cas had stuck closer to him than ever. He figured Sam had prayed to Cas to watch over Dean.  
“Castiel,” he said aloud, not praying, just saying it. Dean would never admit it, but he really liked Cas’s name. It was… proud, in a way.  
Meanwhile, Cas was returning from his trip to Las Vegas to see Sam. The younger Winchester had claimed to be doing good, and to not be homesick at all. He was alright, which was the only thing Dean asked Cas to make sure of.   
After he got back, he looked at Dean. “I believe it’s time that we paid Metatron a visit. Those dungeons get boring, I’m sure.”  
“Gotcha,” Dean replied. “But how are we gonna bust into Heaven? Aren’t the pearly gates sealed to outsiders?”  
Cas felt a wave of irrational defensiveness. “I’m hardly an outsider, Dean. I am an angel, after all.”  
Dean looked at him for a moment. “Cas, is something bothering you that you’re not telling me?”  
Cas shook his head. Dean would find out what was bothering him soon enough, as soon as Cas got them both into Heaven. Cas felt something on his hand and looked down. It was a small spider. Cas’s attention was temporarily distracted.  
He watched as the delicate little creature scuttled up and over his thumb. It was so fragile, so weak. It was afraid and trying its best to get away. It didn’t know which way to turn, and it went up to try to fix that. It was almost… human, to Castiel.  
“Yo, Peter Parker!” Dean called Cas back to reality.   
“What?” Cas asked suddenly.  
“Are you having a nice conversation with the invertebrate? Brush that thing off and let’s go,” Dean sounded impatient.  
Cas glanced at the spider. Was that really what life did? Just brushed them off? He carefully picked it up by its back leg, then set it down on the window ledge. Dean had his arms crossed, looking completely annoyed.  
“Okay, are you good, or do you wanna make him a cup of coffee while you’re at it?” he snapped.  
“No, I think it will be all right,” Cas said.  
Dean scoffed and moved out the door. Cas was on his heels. When they were in the sunlight, greeted by rustling leaves and a gentle breeze, Dean looked at the angel.  
“So how are we getting into Heaven?” he said boredly.   
Cas looked at him. “I’ve been thinking about that. There’s a confidential place to enter that no human may ever know about.”  
“Awesome,” Dean looked impressed. “So how do we get there?”  
“Did you not just hear me?” Cas watched him, confused. “I said that no humans are allowed to even know it exists.”  
“Cool. Then let’s go in there.”  
Cas sighed. “Alright. Alright, fine. We can go, on the condition that you close your eyes.”  
“Are you serious?” Dean raised a disbelieving eyebrow at him.   
Cas’s eyes were gravely serious, so Dean assumed that was a yes. He shook his head, not believing that Cas was actually making him do this. Like a kid who’s dad wanted to show them a great surprise. But Dean obediently closed his eyes.  
“Okay, stay like that,” Cas ordered.  
Dean felt himself being thrown around pretty good for the next five minutes, and he really wanted to know what Cas was trying to do to him. He shook his head when he realized how wrong that sounded.  
“You can open your eyes now, Dean,” Cas told him.  
Dean opened his eyes slowly, looking around. They were in a complete shithole. Dean had been expecting them to be standing on a cloud, with fluffy pink unicorns playing in the sky and angels trumpeting away on heavenly horns and playing harps.   
Instead they stood in a cracked concrete hall. There was a damn roach crawling on the floor about a foot from Dean’s feet. Dean smashed it beneath his boot.  
“Now, come on, Dean,” he heard possibly the most annoying voice in the world. “Did you have to crush Phillip?”  
Dean looked up. At the end of the hall was a single cell, and Metatron sat in it with his head back against the wall. He looked at Dean with a semi-amused look.   
“Phillip?” Dean seriously hoped he hadn’t just killed an angel in disguise.  
“Yes, my cockroach. He was just trying to find food,” Metatron didn’t get up and he barely moved. He looked annoyed, but really, with Dean around, what else was new?  
“Your cockroach,” Dean repeated in disbelief.  
“Enough chitchat,” Metatron laughed. “What are you two idiots doing here?”


	7. Angel With a Smartass Mouth

Cas explained how his powers weren't working as well as usual. Actually, how they weren’t working at all. He looked down at himself, not feeling anywhere near as powerful as he often did. Honestly, he felt weak.  
Metatron looked terrible. His eyes were surrounded by a dark circle, as if he hadn’t slept in a year, and they were really bloodshot to make matters worse. For him anyway. Dean and Cas honestly enjoyed seeing him this way. After all he’d done to them.   
Cas would have said it had something to do with his grace, but he’d gotten it back, so that shouldn't have posed a problem.  
“Any ideas why this is happening?” Cas crossed his arms and glared at Metatron.  
“Well, I know. But why would I tell you anything? You two haven't exactly given me a reason to do you any favors.”  
Cas lost his patience along with any resolve he had to remain calm. He pried open the locked door of the cell and grabbed Metatron’s shirt, twisting it up in his hands. He pulled the scribe close to his face and began to growl in a low voice at him.  
“You’d better get talking,” he snarled. “If you don’t, I have no problem with ending your life right now.”  
Dean looked like he wanted to protest, but he managed to shut up, knowing that Cas was deadly when you tried his patience. Metatron knew something that Cas desperately wanted to know.   
Metatron winced as Cas slammed him into the wall at full force. “I’ll talk, Castiel. On one condition.”  
“What?” Cas got even closer to Metatron, his eyes feral.  
“Two conditions, actually. One, you don't accuse me of lying, and two, you leave and never come back here after you hear the truth.”  
“You’ll never see me again,” Cas swore.  
“Fine,” Metatron grinned, like he was about to ruin Cas’s life and enjoy watching him break down. Dean suddenly got a bad feeling about this.  
“Do you remember how I told you that you had to kill that Nephilim? That she was an abomination?”  
At Cas’s nod, Metatron continued. “Well, her heart wasn’t the only thing I needed. I was going to take her grace for the last part of my spell. But when you so arrogantly shoved your blade through her throat, I thought it was over. Without the grace of a Nephilim, I knew there was no way I could finish it.”  
“This is a great story, but I’m kinda wondering if you have a point,” Dean snapped, defensive. He really didn’t want to hear this, but he also didn’t want to hold Cas back from something he needed to know.  
“Does there need to be a point to a great story?” Metatron challenged.  
Dean was ready to make a witty retort, as always, but Metatron continued before he got the chance.  
“I figured we might as well have gone to get the second ingredient. But now I was watching you Castiel. And I realized how different you were from the other angels. Your powers, your feelings, all of it. I finally understood that there had been more than one Nephilim left in the world. I looked at you, really looked at you, and I knew where I could get the grace of a Nephilim,” Metatron grinned.  
“What are you saying?” Cas pressed his angel blade to Metatron’s throat.  
Metatron chuckled, clearly enjoying the pain he was obviously putting Cas through. “You’re a Nephilim, Castiel. Half angel, half human.”  
Cas slowly backed off of Metatron, and Dean saw utter horror in the angel’s eyes. He was completely frozen, and he almost looked afraid. Afraid that what Metatron said was true. Dean already knew deep down that it was.  
“That’s not true…” Cas panted. “You’re lying!”  
He flew forward, his blade pressed close up against Metatron’s neck. He was breathing through his teeth, and his eyes were wild.  
Metatron sighed, looking almost sympathetic, though he obviously liked torturing Cas this way. “One of the conditions were that you didn’t accuse me of lying.”  
“I wouldn’t have if you weren’t lying!” Cas yelled with rage in his voice.   
“Why are you so naive when I tell you lies you want to hear, and so adamant that I’m lying when I tell you a painful truth?” Metatron glared at him.  
“I’ve had enough of this,” Cas said. “You need to tell me what’s actually going on, and how I can fix it?”  
“Castiel, you know I’m telling the truth,” he insisted.  
“Fine. Pretend I believe you. Why are my abilities suddenly becoming disabilities?” Cas growled, pinning Metatron down.  
“That’s simple. You recently found something that is your weakness. Shows your human side. What could do that?”  
“Nothing,” Cas snapped. “Nothing has changed.”  
“You’ll figure out what it is soon enough.”  
“Do you already know?” Dean asked in a deep and angry voice. He was sick of this. He hated seeing Cas like this.  
“Maybe…” Metatron replied childishly.  
“That’s it,” Cas drew back his blade. He was trembling with fury, and he planned on finishing Metatron here and now.  
“He’s not worth it, Cas,” Dean warned.  
“And so the big tough angel listened to the pathetic little human and left the awesome and rather attractive scribe live. What a story!” Metatron saw that his juvenile behavior was irritating Cas, and he enjoyed it.  
“I’m finished with you,” Cas began to bring his blade down.  
“Cas, don’t!” Dean placed a hand on Cas’s shoulder.  
In a blind rage, Cas spun and shoved Dean backwards as hard as he could. The second he did it, he silently cursed himself and wished with all his heart he could take it back. Dean yelped as he landed on his back and hands, feeling something in his wrist crack upon the heavy impact. He grimaced.   
Cas looked down at Dean as he eyes cleared. He was snapped back to reality, and Dean looked up at him with a hurt in his green eyes that made Cas’s heart ache. Cas couldn’t believe he’d just done that. He dropped Metatron and approached his friend.  
“I’m so sorry, Dean-“ he said as Dean staggered to his feet. Cas had never felt more like an abomination than he did right then.  
Dean shook his head, hissing in pain as he cradled his broken wrist. Cas ducked his head, the shame flooding his heart. He’d hurt Dean, and all because he’d been too deep in his denial to listen to his best friend.   
Cas reached out to heal him, but Dean pulled back, looking almost…afraid. Of Cas. Dean was afraid of Cas.  
“Dean,” Cas said again. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”  
He touched Dean’s hand lightly, and Dean exhaled as the bone straightened out and corrected itself. Dean kept his eyes down, refusing to look at Cas. Cas shook his head, knowing that he could have just broken Dean’s trust forever in that one small move.  
“Castiel?” Metatron said, actually sounding sympathetic. His voice infuriated Cas. And Cas found someone to blame for what he’d just done.  
Cas whirled and slammed him up against the wall again. “I’m going to kill you. Not today, but soon,” he snarled.  
He threw Metatron down, touching Dean and sending him back to the bunker to rest. He looked to Metatron again.  
“Now, were you lying?” he asked, ignoring the shame.  
“No, Castiel. You are a Nephilim.”  
“Then what could that weakness be? The one that supposedly brings out my human side?” Cas snapped.  
Metatron looked at where Dean had just been. “Don’t take offense, but are you blind? I don’t think it could be more obvious.”


	8. Separated For a While

Cas returned to the bunker, standing outside. He wanted to see Dean again. Desperately. He wanted to apologize again, and make everything better, but he couldn’t. He finally realized that what Metatron had said was true. And he knew that he was dangerous. He could kill Dean by accident.   
Nephilim were killers, so that made him a killer. He hadn’t wanted it to be true. But as he’d looked over his past, everything fell into place. He’d always been different. Was always too gentle, too caring. Yet when someone made him angry, he lost all control. Angels weren’t supposed to be that way.  
Cas went invisible and went inside. Dean was sitting on the couch, his elbows on his knees and his head down. He looked absolutely miserable.  
“Castiel,” Dean said. “Uh…if you can hear me right now, please come on in. I’m not mad at you, I just wanna talk.”  
Cas knew he wasn’t lying, and he really wanted to show that he was there, as he always was, but to protect Dean, he realized he had to make Dean think he’d left him.  
“Cas, come on,” Dean whispered, almost angrily. “Please. I just need to make sure you didn’t get your dumbass killed back there.”  
Cas shook his head sadly. He would give anything to be able to come to Dean right then. To talk to him and tell him the truth. To hear his voice, strong and sure, telling him to suck it up and that everything would straighten itself out in the end. But more than anything, even being around Dean, Cas wanted Dean Winchester to be safe.  
“Castiel,” Dean repeated, lowering his head. He seemed to accept that Cas wasn’t coming back. He picked at a loose string on the edge of the couch, where the leather was stitched together.  
Cas winced at the sound of his name. The name of a creature that didn’t even deserve to live. The name of a monster. He had never realized just how many terrible things he’d done until he realized it was in his nature to do them.  
Suddenly Dean’s phone went off. “Winchester bloodline. Your friendly neighborhood demon hunters,” he said only half-heartedly.  
Cas listened as Sam replied. “Oh, hi, Dean. Uh… how’s it going?”  
“Awesome,” Dean exhaled deeply.  
“Well, I just wanted to let you know that one of the bloodsuckers is dead. The other one made a break for it, but I’m going to find him,” Sam sounded proud of himself.  
“Nice,” Dean said, his voice flat.  
“You okay?” Sam asked.  
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Dean lied. He wouldn’t be fine until he knew that Cas was okay. If anything had happened to the angel, Dean would blame himself. He was the one who let Cas think he was mad about what happened.  
“Tell me the truth,” Sam could read his brother like a late Victorian novel. So he knew right away that something was wrong.  
“Okay, fine. We saw Metatron, Cas is a Nephilim, he snapped my fucking wrist, then he healed it, and now he’s gone MIA,” Dean said, his words coming in a rush, and he wasn’t able to stop them. Luckily, Sam had followed well.  
“Okay, so Metatron told you that Cas was a Nephilim. Cas accidentally broke your wrist, and after healing it, he left because he felt guilty?”  
Jesus, Sam was so much smarter than Dean sometimes gave him credit for. “Uh… yeah. Pretty much.”  
“Hm. Have you prayed?”  
“Only for the last twenty minutes!” Dean snapped, making Cas’s heart hurt again. He felt awful about this whole thing, and he wished he could take all of it back.  
“And he hasn’t answered?” Sam sound genuinely shocked. Another thing that made Cas feel even worse.  
“I wouldn’t be telling you this if he did,” Dean responded angrily.  
“Well, do you need me to come back?”  
Dean suddenly seemed to get control of himself and pull himself together. “No, no. You stay there and kill that son of a bitch. I’ll be fine until you get back.”  
“If Cas isn’t protecting you, I highly doubt that,” Sam said simply, but sincerely.  
Cas shook his head. Of course he was still protecting Dean. He was standing right in front of him, after all. He would do just about anything to make sure he was okay. If he needed to show himself, he would.  
“I’m fine, Sammy. You just do your thing and we can talk about this when you get back,” Dean said quietly.  
Sam sighed. “Alright. I’ll see you then.”  
“See you,” Dean said as he hung up. He sighed and hung his head.  
Cas hated seeing this, but he had to stay. Sam was right. The minute any of their enemies got word of Dean being alone and vulnerable, they’d be on him like nobody’s business. And Cas would have to be there for him, since no one else could be.  
Dean stood up, slowly walking over to the window. Cas appeared on the other side so he could look in at him. Dean looked right through him, looking so sad that Cas almost showed himself right then and there. But he managed to stay invisible. Dean put his hand up on the glass, peering out at the yard as rain began to pelt Cas’s shoulders. Cas slowly put his hand up too, giving the illusion that their hands were touching. As close to each other as they could get. For now, anyway.  
Dean sighed, suddenly turning away, leaving Cas standing out in the rain. Cas went around, away from the window, letting himself be visible and the rain to drench him. He didn’t care at that point.  
“Castiel,” he heard Dean pray. “If you’re there, and I know you are, show up. Just to let me know you’re okay. Then you can scram if you want.”  
Cas wanted to. But if he went in there and saw Dean’s bright green eyes locked on his deep blue ones, he knew he could never leave.   
“I’m sorry, Dean,” he murmured, not sure where to turn from here.  
Dean laid down to sleep, and Cas waited in the corner of the room until he finally fell asleep. Cas looked at him, sadness in his eyes. He didn’t want to lose Dean. But after he found out that he wasn’t so much a guardian angel as a cheap tagalong, it was clear that he couldn’t stay. Not as long as Dean knew about it.  
He looked at Dean as he curled up on his bed. He looked at the corner of the room that Cas was in one last time, clearly not sure what he was looking for. Cas watched as Dean’s eyes scanned the area around him.  
He was just like he ought to be. Absolutely invisible.   
“Castiel,” Dean said one more time. “If you got your ears on right now, I just want you to know that I’m sorry about earlier. I wasn’t mad, I was just surprised.”  
Cas hung his head. Yes, Dean had been surprised. Surprised and deeply hurt by what Cas had done.


	9. Living a Fucking Nightmare

In the night, Dean began to tremble and shake with the remnants of a really bad nightmare. Probably one that Cas was the star of. He cringed in his sleep, and Cas sighed. Dean was probably having a nightmare where Cas was trying to kill him or something. After that morning, the scenario didn’t seem so crazy.  
He appeared in the room next to Dean, sitting on the edge of the bed. He was slow and gentle, so as not to wake the hunter. He was completely visible, so if Dean woke up, Cas was, as Dean himself would say, screwed right into the dirt.  
“Cas,” Dean whimpered, confirming Cas’s fear.  
He laid a hand on Dean’s back, rubbing in slow, careful circles. He began to shush the older Winchester, ready to disappear if Dean opened his eyes. He gently picked Dean up by the shoulders, pulling him into his lap. He rocked him back and forth, trying his best to comfort him. If Cas was such a monster, why didn’t he feel like one right now?  
“Dean, it’s okay,” he said gently.  
Dean cowered, the fear in his expression enough to make the angel’s breath hitch in his throat. He trembled harder. It was funny, how strong and at ease Dean was during the day. It was funny, how he could go from that all-business, unshakable Dean Winchester, to this shaking, fearful overgrown child in Cas’s arms.  
“Dean, this is a nightmare,” he said. For both of us, he added in his mind. He wasn’t sure which of them were more afraid right now.  
“Cas, no,” Dean whispered, cuddling into Cas’s chest, clinging to him like a two-year-old to his mother in a room full of strangers. Cas felt a wave of protectiveness surge through his veins. He held Dean closer.  
“Dean, it’s not real,” Cas breathed, trying to calm his friend down.  
Dean whimpered softly again, a tiny sound that made him seem so weak and pathetic to others. But to Cas, he was still, and would remain, the strongest human being on the face of the Earth. That was what Dean meant to him.  
Dean buried his face in Cas’s chest, tightening his arms around him. He still trembled, but it seemed as though Cas’s real, physical presence was helping. He bit his lip as he looked down at Dean. Cas hesitantly put a hand on Dean’s upper arm and eased him down onto the bed. Then he got up and went invisible again, in case Dean did happen to wake up.  
What hurt Cas the most about this whole thing is that Dean was dreaming about him. The fact that Dean was so afraid of Cas made the angel think that he was indeed an abomination. Because Dean Winchester wasn’t afraid of much. He must have been dreaming that Cas was hurting him again.

Dean winced in his sleep. This nightmare was the worst in a long time. He was chained to a wall, having to watch as Sam and Cas were getting tortured nearly to death in front of his eyes. The person with the angel blade kept taunting Dean as he carved his initials into their skin over and over again.  
He tried his hardest to get to them. Some part of his conscious knew this was a dream, but in his mind's eye, he saw it with his own perspective.

_“Dean! Stop! You’re making it worse!” Sam cried out in pain as the man kicked him._   
_“Sam!” Dean yelled, not really hearing himself at this point. Cas trembled as he tried to get up._   
_“Cas, stop!” Dean and Sam shouted in unison._   
_“You guys can still make it out,” he said gently as the man kicked him down again. “Dean can you reach Sam at all?”_   
_The man suddenly stomped on Sam’s ankle, and there was a sickening snap as he let his heavy boot come down. Sam bit his lip so hard it bled, screaming through clenched teeth. Dean reached out, straining the muscles in his abdomen as he managed to grab Sam’s hand._   
_Cas appeared next to Dean, still stuck in the angel trap on the floor, but now able to use at least one power. He put his hand over Dean’s forehead, and he and Sam appeared back in the bunker, safe._   
_For some reason, Dean still had a bird’s-eye view of what was going on inside that dirty concrete cell. And the image was clear. Cas was on his back, the man kicking him as hard as he could, again and again._   
_“Cas!” Dean yelled._   
_Cas looked up as if he could hear Dean. The man took Cas’s distraction as an opportunity, and he drove the angel blade into his chest. But Cas’s death was nothing like the other angels’ Dean had seen._   
_“Cas! No!” Dean heard himself scream as Cas’s body seized._   
_The look of fear in his eyes was something that would haunt Dean’s nightmares until the day he died._   
_Cas groaned in pain, blood pouring from his chest and spurting from his mouth. He hadn’t just flickered out, like most angels. He was dying a human death. A slow, nightmarish human death. One that Dean would never forget._   
_Dean thought the nightmare would end there. But no, it made him stick around to see what he’d done._   
_Cas’s eyes were open and empty, his body limp. The man disappeared, and suddenly, Dean was standing in the cell again. He slowly walked around the angel’s body until he saw his face. Dean couldn’t hold back a sob. Cas looked so afraid._   
_“I’m so sorry, Cas,” Dean breathed, sitting down and pulling the angel into his arms. “I’m so damn sorry.”_   
_He rocked him back and forth lightly. His breath was stuck behind the lump in his throat, and he looked down at the body of his best friend. Dead. Because of him. Gone._   
_Even in dreams, death made itself clear: It had the authority here._   
_Dean hugged Cas to his chest, still sobbing occasionally. He lightly brushed his hand over his hair. The angel’s body was starting to become as cold as death itself._   
_Dean looked down. Cas’s entire body had become almost transparent. And he just kept disappearing in Dean’s arms, slowly becoming light and fragile. It only took another minute of unbearable pain in Dean’s chest before Cas’s body faded away completely._   
_Dean was now holding air. And Castiel was gone._

Cas still watched over Dean protectively. He kept shifting, twisting and turning. He would even lash out at the air, making contact with nothing.  
Cas wanted so badly to wake Dean up. To pull him into a hug and tell him everything was going to be alright. But he couldn’t. He didn’t even deserve to be near Dean. He didn’t even deserve to see Dean.  
This nightmare continued until the sun came up. It was at that point that Dean shot into a sitting position. He was panting and gasping for air as if someone had been strangling him the whole night.  
Cas was shocked at the first thing he did upon waking up.  
“Cas,” he said, heavy sadness in his voice and in his eyes. “Please come back. I just need to know you’re okay.”


	10. Done in More Ways Than One

Cas stayed away from Dean, still watching him closely. One day blurred into two, then three, and before long, it had been a week since Dean had heard from Cas. Nothing had changed. Dean still called Sam once a day, and he still prayed to Cas at least twice that.   
One particular day, exactly one week and a day later, Cas was watching Dean drink himself into a stupor. Dean had done this twice earlier in the week. Cas was worried about him, trying to figure out what to do.  
When Dean was good and drunk, Cas couldn’t take it anymore. Dean was going to get himself killed if he kept doing this. He appeared behind him, placing a hand on his back, right between his shoulder blades, healing the alcohol poisoning Dean had given himself. Cas shook his head. It could only get worse if he kept this up.  
Dean shook his head to clear it, then spun around, as if knowing someone was there, but of course, all he saw was an empty room. He wasn’t drunk now; Cas had fixed that, but still. Something was off about him.  
Dean cursed under his breath and laid down on the couch. Cas knew that Dean was more than aware he’d been drunk. Dean wasn’t as stupid as he sometimes acted. So he must have known that Cas was around. Either way, he closed his eyes to mumble a prayer for the third time that day.  
“Castiel. I know that was you just now, so it’s good that I know you’re okay. But staying away from me and pretending you're not there isn’t helping anything. If you really care about me at all, you’ll show up.”  
Cas knew that last bit was just a bribe. It wasn’t true at all. He knew that the safest thing for Dean was to be far away from any angel. Especially a Nephilim monster like Cas.   
Cas was still having problems comprehending what that meant for his future. And not just as far as the Winchesters were concerned. Now that Cas had a human side, a real human side, what would he do after them? The Winchesters were so temporary, like all human lives, such a short period in his life, that they would become an irrelevant topic to Cas when he was only at half his age estimation.   
Nephilim lived long, often billions of years, but their lives did end. Angels’ did not. At least Cas knew that when he died, he wouldn’t be accepted in Heaven or Hell, so he didn’t have to worry about going to either. Even though Cas was technically thousands of years old, as far as angels went, he was still very young. Barely an adult.  
Finding out that he was a Nephilim meant he could do what the girl he’d killed had been doing. He could fit in with humans, try to make a life for himself. But really, being only part human, he really didn’t belong with them either.   
Metatron was right. Cas didn’t fit in anywhere. He was an outcast, and doomed to remain an outcast. With no real place to call home. No place to be able to return to. Cas couldn’t be an angel. He couldn’t stay with them when he felt so many human emotions that impacted his decisions. He couldn’t be a human. He couldn’t have a family and come home to his wife and children after a long day at work, and he couldn’t put humans at risk because he was too strong to exist on Earth.  
Knowing all of this begged the inevitable question: Who was he anymore?  
Cas left the room, leaning with his back to the wall, his head in his hands. He was perfectly visible, but he knew Dean was going to stay in the living room for a while. He stayed there, and he looked up, wishing he could let Dean know he was here.  
Little did the angel know, on the other side of the wall, Dean had assumed the same position as he did. If the wall was to miraculously disappear, the two of them would be back to back, holding one another up. The two of them looked up at the ceiling, silently praying the other would be alright.  
Cas soon couldn’t take being so close yet so far from Dean all that time. He left for what felt like the thousandth time.  
Dean looked up upon hearing the sound of wings, the sound he always heard when Cas showed up. His heart nearly stopped in his chest. His only thought was that Cas had come back. When in reality their window had just closed.  
“Cas!” he called, hurrying out into the hall. “Cas, are you here?”  
He looked around, and his hopes fell with each place he searched. By the time he got through the entire bunker, it was clear that Cas wasn’t back. Dean sighed, knowing he’d probably never see the angel again at this rate.  
“Cas, come back, dammit,” he sank down onto his bed. “Just fucking come back already. You don't have to stay away.”  
Cas heard him praying, and normally that made him feel better because he knew that Dean still cared about him, but not today. Today, the more he heard Dean calling for him, the more his heart ached. He finally lowered his head, blocking out all prayers. He couldn’t hear Dean begging him to come back anymore. He was close to doing as Dean asked, and he just couldn't bring himself to put his best friend at risk because he was too weak to stay away from him.  
Cas walked. And walked. And walked. He had no idea where he was going, nor where he’d end up. He didn’t really care at that point.  
Hours faded into night, and Cas didn’t stop. He just kept going, until he was no longer sure of where he was. Rain began to pour down in torrents, drenching him, and thunder clapped at nearly the same time lightning flashed. The rain came down harder.  
Cas sighed, heading toward a building in the distance. He was in a small town, having absolutely no idea what town. The building he was heading toward was a small convenience store, with every trademark of a gas station.  
Two heavily muscled and tattooed bikers leaning up the brick wall, pretending the cold of the rain didn't bother them. An Indian-looking older man at the cash register, currently ringing up a young emo male. Two teenaged females in the back of the store, giggling as they shoved bottles of Penicillin into their conspicuously oversized purse.   
Cas approached the store. The bigger biker took a long drag on his cigarette before puffing the smoke in Cas’s direction.  
“Hey, little man,” he sneered.  
Cas looked down immediately, knowing that Dean was very used to this kind of situation. He wished his friend were here right now.  
“Did your boyfriend get you all wet like that?” his buddy asked with a guffaw of laughter.   
Both of them hooted loudly and in a very exaggerated way. Cas kept his eyes down. He knew people like this. They were just trying to intimidate him. He tried to tell himself they wouldn't want a fight, because he had no plans of fighting back.  
Cas was standing on a grate, one that let rainwater flow into the sewer. He looked into it and saw a piece of rotting bread lodged in between two of the bars. It had mold growing on one side, making it look like a rock half-covered in moss. Cas wondered if someone had dropped it there. Already his mind was reeling with possibilities.  
A homeless man, on the verge of starvation, accidentally dropping it into the grate, sobbing when it was only a few inches out of his reach. The daughter of a rich business tycoon, being given the piece of bread by someone who should have been important to her, only to scoff and toss it away in front of their face. A nature lover, who was happily having lunch when a seagull landed nearby, begging her for food. She tossed a piece of bread, only to have it land in there. An animal abuser, teasing his future guard dog with the bread, when it was so close yet so far from the hungry animal’s face.  
Humanity was sick this way, Cas realized. He didn't want to be human any more than he wanted to be an angel. He just wanted freedom. To be who he was, which was clearly not human nor angel, but somewhere in between. His own little sanctuary.  
“Hey, didn’t you hear me, pussy?” the biker growled in a gruff voice, taking Cas by the shoulders and shoving him backwards.  
Cas kept his eyes down, never once even considering to fight back. Not for a single second did he think about fighting back.


	11. Not Exactly a Fight

The bikers looked down at Cas as if he was the most pathetic thing they had ever seen in their lives. Maybe he was. A small, weak, useless half-angel on his back in front of two pure-human bullies, practically cowering. Sounded pathetic enough to Cas.  
“Look at this little pussy,” the biker said with a threatening glare at Cas. That seemed to be the only insult he could think of, because the huge man used it amply in his language. “He’s not even tryin’ to get up.”  
“Let’s help him with that,” his larger buddy grinned a smile stained with brown and yellow. From too many years of chewing tobacco and smoking cigarettes.  
Cas took a deep breath as they jerked him to his feet. Normally, he’d just fly the heck out of there, never planning on returning. But he deserved this. After what he’d done to Dean, and what he could do to the world. He deserved to be in pain.  
“Alright, you little queer,” the word hurt Cas, carved deep into his chest like a knife for reasons unknown to him. “Empty your pockets and give us your money.”  
“I don’t have money,” Cas replied frankly.  
“I think you’re lyin’,” the smaller biker, who happened to be twice the size of Cas, interrupted. “You look like a little rich fag.”  
Another word that sunk into Cas’s heart like a toxin. He wanted to know why the word mattered so much to him.  
“What’s your name, queer magnet?” the larger biker said, his heavy hand locked around Cas’s upper arm, squeezing so hard he had to hold back a yelp.  
Cas didn’t answer, and the strong grip tightened. “C-Cas,” he stammered, his voice wavering because of the pain.  
“Cas?” the guy sounded disbelieving. “Oh, holy fuck, we did find a gay one!” he howled with laughter, his buddy joining in.  
Cas looked down.   
“Well, listen up, Cassie,” the biker spat. “You’re gonna go in there and steal us some more cigarettes and chewing tobacco, and you’re not gonna snitch on us. If you don’t do exactly as we tell you, we’re gonna have to hurt you.”  
“Let go of me,” Cas demanded, causing the larger biker to only tighten his grip even further, making his entire arm go numb.  
“Is that clear?” he growled.  
“Yes,” Cas said with pain in his voice.  
“Good,” he threw Cas forward, and the pain automatically subsided to a dull throbbing. Cas lost his balance, landing on his hands and knees.  
The bikers were hysterical when Cas finally got up. They were doubled over as if they were experiencing a heart attack. Cas would have worried for them if not for their wheezing laughter.  
Cas sighed, going invisible.  
“What the hell?” the larger man demanded, the veins in his neck bulging. “Where’d that little bitch go?”  
“Let him pray to Jesus that he went in the store, otherwise we get to fuck him up” the smaller one grinned.  
“We’ll give him five minutes to be back in front of us,” his companion decided.  
Cas went over to the small counter in the corner, slipping over the counter and stuffing some of the tobacco in his pockets before reappearing at the doors. He heard the cashier cry out in surprise, but he kept his head down and exited.  
He hadn't wanted to do that. It was wrong. He knew that. But he didn't exactly have a choice. They were going to do something to him regardless. Cas wasn’t stupid enough to foolishly hope for anything else. But he figured it would be a little better if he did as they asked.  
“Here,” he said, shoving three packs of cigarettes and two circular containers of chewing tobacco into their hands.  
They both looked mildly impressed.  
“Well, holy shit, the little queer pulled it off,” the larger one said with a cruel grin. “Good job, Cassie.”  
Cas glared at them one more time before walking away. He wasn’t surprised when two beefy hands clamped around his shoulders, yanking him back.  
“You know, Cassie,” the smaller one said, the look in his eyes betraying his polite smile. “You’re real good. We like you a lot. How’s about you hang with us?”  
“I got what you asked me to,” Cas said, annoyance and defiance coloring his pointed tone. “I’m leaving now.”  
“Like hell you are,” the larger one said. “Come on, Garret. Let’s kick his ass.”  
“My pleasure,” the smaller one- Garret- replied with a snicker.   
Suddenly Cas was shoved to the ground, boots and gloved fists coming at him from all sides. The pain didn’t set until someone got a kick in right below his ribs. Then he felt it, curling up into a ball to attempt to protect himself. They didn’t stop.   
Kicks and punches alike kept coming. Cas felt a boot being driven into the back of his head, knocking his vision blurry. Perhaps the worst thing about watching this, for those that actually knew Cas, was how easily this fight could be ended. If only Cas would fight back. But there was just no fight left in the young Nephilim.  
“Hey! Hey!” a voice suddenly shouted. “Break it up, girls!”  
After one more kick to his head that knocked him practically unconscious, a gunshot went off, startling all of them.  
The two bikers suddenly scrambled away from Cas. “Let’s get out of here!” one of them shouted as they took off.  
Cas was still lying on his side, his vision ever blurring. He couldn’t move nor could he protest as two strong hands wrapped about his shoulders, tugging him to his feet. Whoever had pulled him up gently pulled his arm around their shoulders.  
“Are you alright?” a deep, strong voice said with no infliction.  
Cas thought he said something like, “Nfffmm,” by which he had no idea what he meant, but he didn’t care.  
There was only one thing coursing through his mind just then. Dean. He would be standing over Cas right now, telling him he’d been acting like a sissy, and that Dean’s own grandmother could have done better. God, how Cas missed him.  
“Hang on. I’ll getcha some help,” the gruff male voice said. “You just need to keep them pretty blue eyes open.”  
Cas tried to look at who was dragging him along, but everything was just moving shadows and painful memories.   
“Dean,” Cas whispered, knowing that was all he needed to hear about right now. That Dean was okay. That Dean was waiting for him to return. That Dean would laugh and enjoy hearing that Cas had gotten into a “Mini-Mart Fight.”  
“What?” the voice said.  
“Where’s Dean?” Cas repeated, not sure of his surroundings anymore. He wasn’t sure if it was Dean who’d saved him, if it was Sam, or if it was Crowley.  
“I’m not sure who that is, angel,” the voice said.  
That was either a flirtation, or this person knew he was an angel. Cas was aware enough to know that. But he couldn’t stay awake any longer. The world around him faded to nothing. He fell unconscious.


	12. Complicated Relationships

Cas woke up on a couch that definitely didn't belong to the Winchesters. He immediately tried to sit up, but he was just as quickly forced back down. There was a gentle hand on his shoulder, one that also didn’t belong to either of the Winchesters.  
“Who are you?” he muttered foggily, considering the person was behind him.  
“Not that it really matters, but my name is Chase,” he replied with a slightly insane-sounding chuckle. “I’m a cop, and that’s all I can tell you. The first question I have is what were you thinking?”  
Cas was immediately reminded of Dean. “Huh?” he managed, still not comprehending.  
“Look, what’s your name, anyway?” the so-called cop asked, and Cas looked up at him as he walked into view.  
“Castiel,” the answer came out of Cas’s mouth without any hesitation, and he immediately regretted it.  
“Castiel?” the man sounded like he’d just found Adolf Hitler’s body in his attic. “You mean, like the Castiel? The angel?”  
“You know me?” Cas sat up in surprise, another move he instantly regretted.   
“Careful,” Chase said hesitantly. “You are not fully healed yet, Castiel.”  
“How do you know me?” snapped Cas as he laid back down. “I’m not exactly a well-known angel.”  
“I would tell you, but you would kill me immediately,” he said, looking ashamed of whatever he was obviously hiding from Cas.  
Cas shook his head. “Trust me, I won’t be killing anyone for a while.”  
“M’kay, then. I’ll tell you so long as you swear you won’t change how you're looking at me,” Chase said, question in his eyes.  
Cas looked him up and down, finally taking a real look at the guy who had probably saved his skin. He looked like a completely normal guy. Which meant he was an absolute psycho, which he had been displaying slight traits of so far.  
Chase was tall and lean and actually obviously attractive for a male. He had an uncanny resemblance to Dean himself. With bright green eyes, a pronounced jawline, and extremely broad shoulders. The only thing that threw it off was the scruffy mop of dark brown hair. Aside from that, everything about him resembled Dean. Perfect. Just what Cas needed. Another thing to remind him.  
“I swear,” Cas said, easing himself up.  
Chase shook his head once. “Alright then.”  
He closed his eyes, and Cas got a terrible feeling. When Chase opened his green eyes, they were jet black. Demon eyes.  
“You’re a demon?” Cas pressed himself back into the scratchy material of the couch. “But you helped me?”  
“I not a demon,” Chase protested.  
“Then what are you?” Cas snapped.  
While Chase was figuring out how to answer, Cas looked around the small living room. There was the scratchy couch, an old full screen TV, a lightbulb randomly dangling from the ceiling by a red cord, and the two dozen boxes from microwave mac and cheese meals that told Cas he was talking to a single man. Or a single whatever species he was talking to.  
“I’m just like you, Castiel. Only instead of getting angel strength, I have a demon’s heart festering inside me,” Chase replied bitterly. “My kind doesn't get a special name. We’re just a bunch of monsters.”  
“Half demon, half human,” Cas realized.  
“Yes, and-” Chase was cut off by the sound of the door. Cas immediately lifted his angel blade in defense.  
Chase shook his head. “Don’t worry, it’s only my spouse.”  
Scratch the single guy bit. But this didn’t look like any place a woman could stand to stay. Unless she was a demon, too.  
A male suddenly walked in with a smile on his face. “I see what Chase here was saying. Castiel, the fallen angel.”  
“Who are you?” Cas was confused.  
“Castiel,” Chase took the man’s arm and pulled him in, smiling openly. “This is my fiancée, Morgan Trey.”  
Cas wasn’t exactly sure how to respond. He didn’t have much experience with gay half-demons. “Um… hi.”  
Very different than Chase, Morgan was very obviously homosexual. He was thin and short with a tie-dyed T-shirt and dark skinny jeans. He had both of his ears studded with at least two sets of diamonds, and there was a silver hoop through his right eyebrow. His light blond hair came down looking like chunks of uncooked spaghetti, stick straight and pale as the devil. He had bright blue eyes, outlined in heavy black- What did Dean call it? Guy-liner?  
“Morgan, meet Castiel. The Nephilim and our temporary house guest,” Chase said with a soft chuckle. The word Nephilim made Cas go stiff.  
“H-hey,” Morgan stammered. “Ch-Chase t-tells me that y-your an a-angel?”  
Cas wondered to himself why the younger male seemed so unsure. Chase suddenly pulled Cas close enough so only the two of them could hear.  
“Listen, he has a stutter, so just ignore that,” Chase muttered.  
Cas nodded, then looked at Morgan, who waved shyly. “So… you're a human?”  
“Y-yes. B-but Ch-Chase t-told m-me about his d-demon f-father,”he stumbled over his words, obviously aware of how awkward he was making the conversation. That fact that Chase ignored that warmed Cas’s heart.  
Chase locked hands with Morgan, smiling. “Morgan and I have come to accept each other’s flaws. How about you, do you have a special someone?”  
For some reason, Dean’s green eyes and familiar smile flashed in Cas’s mind at that. He shook his head, not sure what was going on with his brain. “No. And at this rate, I never will. Now you,” he nodded at Chase. “How did you know I was a Nephilim?”  
“Many know the truth, Castiel. Most just don’t have the heart nor the desire to let you know,” Chase said.  
“Th-they d-don’t w-wanna hurt y-you,” Morgan added unhelpfully.  
“Look, I understand that, but how did those who know acquire said knowledge?” Cas bribed, not understanding.  
“Since Metatron cast the angels out of Heaven. Word travels quickly.”  
“Why aren’t you like other demons or hybrids? Why are you…” Cas searched for the word. “Good?”  
“Because I found someone to be a hero for,” Chase leaned his head against Morgan’s, who closed his eyes and smiled.


	13. Eyes on the Prize

They forced Cas to stay the night. Cas didn’t have a problem with it, until about eleven o’clock. He was lying on the couch, his eyes trained on the ceiling, when he heard the rhythmic and distinct squeaking of old boxsprings.  
Cas winced internally. He knew what was going on. Dean had taught him well enough to know what it sounded like when two people were having sex. He kept his eyes up, respectfully trying to tune them out, but not even Cas could block out sounds like:  
“Easy, baby,” Chase’s voice was low and dangerous. “You’re all mine tonight, even if I have to drag us both down to hell.”  
“Y-you’re g-getting hard for m-me, b-babe,” Morgan stuttered, his tone sounding shockingly seductive for someone with a stutter.  
“And how could I not? Look at you. All tied up like a nice little present,” Chase replied.  
There was a few thumps, the ear-bleeding screech of the mattress intensifying. Morgan moaned happily.   
“H-harder, sw-sweetie,” Morgan managed, his voice breaking.  
“H-harder, sw-sweetie,” Chase mimicked, his tone several pitches higher, and there was a sharp cry that sounded like he was in pain. Something crashed.  
“Y-you t-tease,” Morgan’s voice was scolding, but playful.  
“You’re getting it all over me!” Chase snapped with a laugh.  
Such sounds continued on into the night. And Cas found it harder and harder to be there. If he could have stood up on his own, he would have left long before this point. Cas instead closed his eyes and thought of when he’d last seen Dean. The older Winchester had seemed so sad.  
Cas shook his head to clear it. It didn’t matter. Dean was better off without him anyway. If Cas was forced to listen to gay sex in the next room over in order to know Dean would be okay, he would suffer through it every night.

~ the next morning~

Cas was still lying on the couch, pretending to sleep when Morgan came in and took a seat on the recliner. “Y-you c-can cut the c-crap, a-angel. Ch-Chase and I b-both know y-you c-can’t s-sleep.”  
Cas opened his eyes slowly. “Uh… hello.”  
“Hi,” Morgan said, his voice bitter. “N-now, c-can I ask y-you a f-favor?”  
“Sure,” Cas said, sitting up.  
“D-don’t t-talk about w-what you heard l-last n-night,” he said, as if it was the first thing Cas was going bring up at the breakfast table.  
“I won’t,” Cas said, confused.  
“I m-mean i-it. Ch-Chase is v-very sh-shy about th-that k-kind of th-thing,” Morgan said, his blue eyes deadly serious.  
“I won’t,” Cas repeated, looking the blond in the eye.  
Chase came out shortly after, and there was an awkward silence, until the easygoing Chase broke it.  
“So, Castiel. You said that there’s no one special in your life?”  
“No,” Cas said, almost too quickly. Again Dean appeared in his mind. Okay, that was getting annoying.  
“Are you sure? You look like a man in love to me,” Chase replied with an easy grin, making Cas smile a bit in spite of himself.  
“No,” Cas repeated. “The only woman I ever had any real interest in passed away a few months back.”  
“Who said it had to be a woman?” the homosexual demon hybrid sounded almost offended that Cas would make such a forward assumption.  
“I’m an angel,” Cas smiled. “I can’t possibly love a man. That’s a sin.”  
Chase chuckled. “Guess us demons can say fuck the law, then? But technically, you only have to follow one set of rules. And if you choose human rules, you’re free.”  
Cas chuckled back. “Well, at one point… I thought, well- there was only one man that I’ve ever considered even remotely attractive.”  
Interested, both Chase and Morgan leaned forward. “Tell us your crush.”  
“Well, it’s not a crush, and I don’t see him that way now. Not after we got out of Purgatory. But there was a time I thought I wanted to be more than friends with my best friend. Dean Winchester,” Cas said slowly.   
“A Winchester?” Chase howled. “A Nephilim and a Winchester? Beauty and the Beast!”  
Cas felt himself blush for the first time in a long time, and he immediately looked down. “I told you I don’t like him. Maybe I thought about it once, but not anymore.”   
“Okay, okay,” Chase chuckled. “I’ll tell you what. If you ever come to your senses and decide otherwise, let us know.”  
“You’ll be the first,” Cas said teasingly.  
Morgan and Chase grinned at each other, each watching as though they were hiding a dirty little secret about the angel.  
“M-Maybe y-you c-can s-send us p-pictures of y-you g-guys and w-we can p-put you on our C-Christmas c-cards,” Morgan suggested with a guffaw of laughter.  
Cas smiled. He decided he really liked these two. Chase seemed to really understand his situation with being a Nephilim, and Morgan was just plain down likable. Cas was beginning to get comfortable around these two. He honestly saw a good friendship with them ahead of him. Even if no one else would approve.  
If he couldn’t have Dean there for him, it would be good to have someone. If this couple was that someone, then he would accept that.   
Morgan suddenly began to gasp uncontrollably. Chase’s eyes widened, and he dropped his fork, which clattered to the ground, each tap against the hardwood floor making a bell-like sound. Cas looked up in surprise.  
“Morgan, are you okay?” Chase said sternly.  
Chase looked on with horror in his eyes as Morgan began to tremble as he gasped harder, his eyes afraid. “I-Inhaler-“ he gasped.  
“Morgan!” Chase grabbed his spouse’s shoulder and shook him hard. “Morgan, breathe! Come on, baby!”  
He began to sift through a drawer a few feet away from them. “Cas, hold him still! Don’t let him pass out!”  
Morgan’s labored breathing intensified as he gasped and struggled against Cas. He shivered as he eyes rolled back in his head.   
Cas’s immediate thought was a seizure, but it couldn’t be just that. He shouldn’t need an inhaler for that. Cas kept holding him still, worried.  
Cas suddenly looked at the young human, really looked at him. He saw what was wrong, and not even he could heal all of the problems in that poor guy’s body. But he could at least put these symptoms at bay for a while.  
Cas set his hand on his back, and immediately, Morgan’s breathing calmed. He was very gentle as he took his hand off.  
“How did you-?” Chase looked shocked as Morgan passed out against Cas, breathing deeply, his eyes peaceful.  
Before Cas could answer, Chase flew to his lover, pulling him out of Cas’s arms and picking the blond up in his own. He carried him to their room and laid him on the bed. Cas followed curiously.  
As he stepped to the door, the smell hit him immediately. The smell of sex. He was disgusted, slightly, but he managed to hide it as he followed Chase in. Chase had sat on the bed, cradling Morgan in his lap, sobbing softly to himself. He saw Cas and clawed at his eyes bitterly. He looked at the young angel.  
“What do you want?”  
“I have a question,” Cas said honestly.


	14. Dean's in Trouble

Chase had been sitting there for almost five minutes, rocking his lover back and forth gently as he looked up at Cas. He watched as Cas pulled up a chair to listen to whatever story Chase planned to tell him.  
“The doctors don’t know. Some say it’s asthma, others say it’s something more. It can’t be cured, and no witch has an antidote. He’s always been very, very sick.”  
“Witch? Do you think it’s a spell?”  
“We did. But recently, a witch told me that my being here, with him, was causing it. That I should leave him in order for him to get better,” Chase hung his head, looking ashamed to speak the sentence out loud.  
“And you didn’t leave?” Cas was shocked.  
There was a scratching sound. Cas looked over and saw a mouse hole. The small brown mouse inside poked its whiskers and small pink nose out for a moment before scampering away with another series of scratching sounds as its tiny nails sunk into the floorboards, preparing an easy escape.  
Cas looked back up at Chase, who actually seemed hurt by his words. “I couldn’t. I love him too much. They say when you’re in love you’ll let the other one go, but that’s bullshit. When you’re in love, for real, you need to be with them in order for either of you to survive. I love Morgan with all I have in my soul. Not that I have much of a soul. But I talked to him about it, and I made it a point to do whatever he wanted.”  
Cas looked at him in surprise. “What did he want?”  
“He wanted me to stay with him until the day he died. He said he’d rather die with me than spend a single day apart from me.”  
Cas’s heart hurt. The sharp, shooting pain that he’d felt on the day he’d left Dean. How long had it been since he’d seen his friend? Too long.  
“You listened,” Cas observed simply. It wasn’t like it wasn’t obvious to him, it was just surprising. He’d thought leaving someone to protect them was the most noble thing one could do. Now staying with them to protect them sounded better.  
“Ch-Chase,” Morgan’s eyelids fluttered, and the blond burrowed into the demon’s chest, hugging him tight. “Th-That w-was a b-bad o-one,” he smiled tiredly.  
“It’s alright, sweetheart,” he whispered. “You’re alright. I’ve got you.”  
Cas looked down. He’d always thought he could never be in love. Because angels didn’t feel. Because he wasn’t supposed to. Angels didn’t fall in love. But humans did, often multiple times in their lives. Cas thought about what Chase said, choosing which set of rules to follow.  
Cas would rather be a human than an angel. Humans were allowed to be different. To make mistakes. Humans had everything.  
“I-I w-was afraid I-I w-wouldn’t w-wake u-up. Th-that I-I w-wouldn’t s-see y-you again,” Morgan whispered into Chase’s chest. Chase chuckled lightly, but Cas could see genuine fear in his eyes.  
“I wasn’t going to let you go that easily,” Chase smiled reassuringly. “You know that.”  
“I-I l-love y-you,” Morgan stammered.  
“I know, baby. I love you too,” Chase’s voice was breathless and terrified. He was shaking, though he made an attempt to hide it for Morgan’s sake.  
Morgan closed his eyes and immediately passed out in Chase’s lap. The larger guy smiled down at him, stroking his cheek tenderly.  
Cas wanted a love like that. The only problem was that he had no one to love, and no one to love him back. He could never have a relationship like this one. With true, real love like this. He probably couldn't even get a fake relationship.  
“Thank you, Castiel,” Chase murmured, holding Morgan closer.  
“It was nothing,” Cas smirked, proud that he’d been able to help.  
“No, you probably saved his life. That’s everything,” Chase corrected with a gentle smile at Morgan, who shifted closer to the half-demon.  
“I’m just glad he’s okay,” Cas said with a sympathetic smile.  
Chase shook his head, as if Cas had just stated something that was second nature for Chase to know. “He’s always had health issues. Since he was born, but my being with him only made it worse. Even his stutter got worse.”  
“If it makes you feel so bad, why don’t you leave?”   
“Because Morgan needs me here. He told me so. And I need him. And what I feel is trivial to what he feels,” Chase replied.  
Cas watched a spider wrestling a moth into its web. It succeeded, but only with the help of its partner. Did everything Cas saw have to remind him of Dean now? Remind him of how he abandoned someone who needed him?  
“Chase, I-“ Cas began, but felt a pain in his heart. He knew what that meant, and his eyes darkened as he looked at the demon. “Dean.”  
“What?” Chase looked at him, confused. “What about him?”  
Cas suddenly got up, not knowing what he was doing. The old floor creaked below his shoes, making it sound like a horror movie where the killer was sneaking around the corner and the victim was trying to be silent, but moved the wrong way.  
“Dean’s in trouble!” Cas exclaimed.  
Chase immediately laid Morgan down. “Hold on, baby,” he whispered before turning to Cas.  
“What do you mean, he’s in trouble?” Chase asked, seemingly concerned. But Cas knew better than to trust a demon. Especially when it was showing emotion, something demons did very seldomly.  
“I mean something happened to him!” Cas exclaimed frantically. “I have to get to him now!”  
“Calm down, Castiel,” Chase said, rubbing his hand over his lover’s blond hair. He looked like he was absolutely miserable, and Cas would have pitied him for a moment had he not been panicking about Dean.  
“How can you say calm down?” Cas said desperately. “I can’t let him see me, so I can’t go help him!”  
“Why can’t you let him see you?” Chase put a gentle hand on Cas’s shoulder. His voice was gentle and soothing and exactly what Cas needed to hear.  
“Because he’ll beg me to stay! And I’ve already told you why I can’t,” Cas looked out the window, debating on going against his better judgement.  
“If you care about him, go. Save your best friend,” Chase said. “Do what you know is right. That’s the only advice I can give you.”  
Cas looked down, feeling the pain again. He staggered back into Chase’s dresser, knocking a drawer out of it. Boxers and socks spilled all over the floor. Cas decided not to comment when a bottle of lube fell out. Chase only looked mildly startled.  
“I have to go,” Cas breathed.  
Chase grinned suddenly. “See you around, angel.”  
Cas smirked as he prepared to appear wherever Dean was. “I’ll see you both. If you ever need me, don’t hesitate to pray.”  
“A demon praying?” Chase chuckled. “Yeah, right.”  
“There’s a first for everything,” Cas smirked as he disappeared. He had a friend who needed him, and he wasn’t going to let him get hurt again.


	15. Who's the Monster?

Cas appeared outside the bunker, about a mile away. He hesitated. Could he really go through with this? Could he really put Dean at risk?  
He felt that stabbing pain shoot through his heart. Someone was hurting Dean. That much was clear. It had been nearly two minutes since he’d felt the first bit of pain. Whoever this was hadn’t let up since.  
“Dean, I’m coming,” he decided, more to himself than anyone else.  
He looked around. The woods were very calm and peaceful. The sun streamed in through the trees, creating a warm glow over everything. The forest was unusually silent, emphasizing Cas’s panicked thoughts. The oak trees around him stood protectively in front of one another, tall and strong. It would have been a beautiful day if Cas wasn’t so worried.  
“Get the hell off of me!” he heard Dean yell as soon as he got into the bunker. He stood in the kitchen, peering around the corner.  
“Shut it, Winchester,” the voice sneered. “Why is it you’re such a pussy when you don’t have a weak-ass angel or your baby brother protecting you?”  
Dean groaned in pain, and Cas felt any patience he’d had for this person dissolve into thin air. He wanted to hurt them, to make them wish they’d never messed with the hunter. He looked into the room Dean was in.  
There was a huge, snarling werewolf on him. It must have been a leftover member of the Bloodmoon pack. Cas saw vengeance in its eyes. That’s what told him it was a wolf on a mission. Possibly a kill mission.  
The werewolf had his knees on either side of Dean, so he was practically straddling him. Cas’s mind would have gone straight into the gutter had this not been such a dire situation. He watched as the wolf sunk its sharp claws into Dean’s shoulders, making the older Winchester cry out in pain. Dean’s knife lay several feet away from him, and he was covered in blood. Cas knew that this werewolf had already given him a hassle.   
“I said get off of me, you slobbering mutt!” Cas was pleased when he heard the werewolf yelp in pain, the sound oddly canine.  
Dean was still holding his own in a fight he obviously couldn’t win. That made Cas at least somewhat hopeful. But his friend still needed him.  
It was only when the werewolf yanked him up and pinned him against the wall with his hand around his throat that Cas finally decided to help Dean. Dean, meanwhile, was struggling pointlessly against the werewolf.  
“Dean!” he cried, moving into view. “Let go of him!”  
Dean’s eyes widened a bit. “Cas?” he choked out, the pain in his eyes evident. He didn’t want to believe the angel had returned. Not until he knew it was true.  
“Dean, hold on,” Cas said, immediately looking at the werewolf. “You. Come, fight me if you think I’m so weak.”  
“You have weapons. I have teeth and claws. How about we both agree to use neither, so we can truly see which species is truly greater?” the werewolf challenged.  
“I have nothing to prove to you,” Cas said. “You werewolves are all the same. All have an illusion of superiority.”  
The werewolf snarled. “Then I’ll rip his throat out,” he nodded at Dean. “Surrender your weapon, or your friend dies.”  
This reminded Cas so much of the first time he and Dean had faced off against these werewolves. He’d been the one held back, a knife at his neck. Now Dean was in trouble, and only Cas could help him.  
“Fine,” Cas threw his angel blade down. “Now let him go.”  
The werewolf grinned, slashing his claws across Dean’s throat. “I lied,” he snarled. “Now, avenge him, angel! Attack me!”  
The blood flew, splattering on the floor, crimson red drops of it polka-dotting the wall. Dean’s body convulsed as the werewolf threw him roughly to the ground.  
Cas was frozen. He lost control of his balance, including any resolve to stand up, and his legs turned to a quivering mess below him. He hit the ground, looking at Dean in shock. Cas’s heart nearly stopped in his chest. His friend was still alive, but barely.  
“You’re going to pay for that,” he managed.  
The werewolf howled with laughter, kicking Cas’s angel blade into the corner. “Prove it, angel. Come get me!”  
Cas attacked blindly. The werewolf snarled and dove on him, claws and fangs bared. He landed on Cas’s shoulders, tearing his teeth into Cas’s neck. Cas ignored the agony it caused him, throwing the werewolf against the wall with bone-crunching force.   
The wolf laid there for a few seconds, stunned, as Cas picked up his angel blade. He watched as the werewolf got up, spitting blood.  
“Not bad, angel. Or, should I say, abomination. I assume you heard about being one of those Nephilim monsters?”   
Cas glared at him, pointing his knife at the werwolf’s chest, his hands shaking.   
“So I also assume you know that I wouldn’t have killed him if you hadn’t shown up,” he laughed.  
“You’re lying,” Cas wanted it to be true. He couldn't live with himself if he was responsible for this.   
“I’m not,” the werewolf laughed with the heavy and furious truth to his words. “You know that whether you admit it or not. So if he dies, it will be your fault.”  
Cas’s breath hitched in his throat, and he gasped and panted, trying in vain to convince himself the werewolf was wrong.  
“How does it feel, knowing the one person who cares about you is dying all because you were stupid enough to think you could be around him and still have him safe?” the werewolf sneered. “How does it feel, Nephilim, to be a murderer?”  
“No!” Cas screamed, lunging forward, burying his blade to the hilt in the werewolf’s chest. He just as quickly yanked it back out again. Stabbed again, blood spurting out in a warm scarlet fountain, staining his coat. Pulled it out again, blood streaming down the werewolf’s chest. Stabbed again, blood squirting onto his face, nearly getting in his eye.  
Dean’s pained gasps snapped Cas out of whatever trance he’d fallen into.  
Cas realized what had just happened. He’d completely lost himself, falling into a dreamlike state where killing was all he wanted. Where blood quenched his thirst, and death satisfied his hunger.  
He’d become the Nephilim monster he realized he was. This was why he’d been staying away from Dean. Because he knew he was dangerous. Because he could have done that to Dean just as easily as the werewolf.  
He could have killed his best friend. The only person he could trust, and the only person he cared for.  
In fact, it was a possibility right now.  
Cas looked down at the mangled corpse. He’d done that. The bloodthirsty creature inside him had taken over, and there was nothing he could do. His eyes began to burn, as they always did when he was miserable with himself.  
“I’m a monster,” he realized aloud.  
“Cas,” Dean suddenly wheezed, pulling Cas back to reality for the second time, and he looked down at his friend, who seized up and gasped for air.


	16. Invisible Barriers

Cas cradled Dean in his lap. “Easy, Dean,” he murmured, laying a hand over the wound, ready to heal it. But he couldn’t. Were his abilities fading again? No. No, not now. It couldn’t happen now. Dean needed him.

He tried again. And again. And it seemed completely useless to Cas. He kept trying, harder and harder each time and failed. 

“No!” he cried desperately, trying again and putting all of his strength into it. Every last bit of power he managed to muster up. 

Dean’s breath hiccuped, and blood began to pour out of his neck in great quantities. Cas had never been so sure he was going to lose someone. But if anyone, he couldn’t lose Dean. 

He tried again. And this time, his mind insulted him with images of a life without Dean Winchester. An almost unbearable thought.

He thought of never seeing the lopsided smirk, the cool, laid back posture as he leaned up against a wall. The deadly flash in his green eyes whenever they found themselves in what Dean called “a sucky situation”. He thought of walking into a store without buying something because Dean wasn’t there to lend him money and tell him what he needed to get. He thought of himself in a fight with a demon, and no Dean there to tell him he was going about everything in the stupidest way possible.

In Cas’s head, he saw the only human life he really wanted fade away. And immediately, he forced all of his power into this.

Slowly, the wound closed.

Cas nearly sobbed with relief when the slashing wound disappeared and Dean passed out in his arms. He was so happy to see his face again, but now- here and now- since Dean wasn’t awake to stop him from going, Cas had a choice. He could leave, and let Dean return to his real life, or he could stay and put the Winchesters at risk over his ignorance.

Dean lay still in his arms, and Cas took note of how one little tiny detail could influence a very large decision.

The shudder of a breath.

A whispered name.

A fearful gasp.

The flash of a long lost memory.

Dean.

Cas had decided long before any of these things. They just sealed the deal. He looked down at Dean, sighing. He needed him, and vice versa. He wasn’t about to abandon Dean ever again. He would stay.

Cas laid a hand on his friend’s forehead, trying to judge and see if he was okay. Clearly, he probably wasn’t expecting to wake up and see Cas, but something told the angel he’d be quite happy with the decision.

“Dean,” Cas whispered, swallowing. He was not only worried for his friend, but also worried for himself. He wasn’t sure if he could adjust to this. To knowing Dean was always at risk with his presence.

Dean sighed in his sleep, and Cas lightly scooped him up. He carried him to his room and laid him down. The Nephilim watched over him with every moment.

Cas let out a breath, relieved to not have such a life changing choice on his shoulders anymore. Free to finally live.

“Dean, wake up,” he said gently.

There was no response, so he decided to let the hunter sleep for a bit. Dean looked at peace for once anyway. A rare occasion between the two of the Winchesters. He needed rest by the looks of him.

Cas sat back, and though he couldn’t sleep, he experienced something very similar to a dream. Something he would never forget.

 

_“Dean, I’m going to kill you!” Sam growled playfully, tackling his brother and the two of them wrestled their way to the ground._

_Cas appeared behind them, a watchful protector, as always. The sun was shining, the breeze was blowing. Both of the Winchesters were happy. Which is something Cas constantly found himself cherishing._

_Sam laughed as Dean pinned him down. The older Winchester merely gave Sam a smug look as he got off of him. The two of them sat down on a bench. A single orange leaf floated delicately down from the fall-colored tree above them. It landed in Sam’s hair._

_Dean chuckled as he plucked it out. “Even though you wore that better than most, I’m sorry, it wasn’t a good look for even you.”_

_Sam laughed, giving his brother a teasing shove. Cas smiled softly as Dean lightly rubbed his knuckles into Sam’s head._

_“Bitch,” Dean said._

_“Jerk,” Sam shoved him again._

_Dean rolled his eyes and scooted over to Sam, throwing all of his weight into the younger hunter. Sam hit the ground next to the bench, grinning slyly the whole time._

_“Don’t you ever learn?” Sam scrambled up, sending both of them sprawling across the grass, laughing at their own childishness._

_Cas smiled again, coming into view. Neither of them seemed to notice him, so he came to stand directly in front of them._

_“Sam, Dean,” he grinned, saying their names to get their attention._

_Sam chuckled again and pushed Dean off. The two of them stood up, their backs facing Cas, who furrowed his brow slightly in confusion. He still didn’t drop the smile._

_“Dean! Sam!” he said with a laugh._

_Still no response from either Winchester._

_“Dean!” Cas repeated, the earlier grin sliding off his face, replaced with a mask of panic and confusion._

_He reached out his hand to touch Dean on the shoulder, but his hand went straight through Dean, as though Cas were transparent. He quickly drew back, looking down at his hand as if it had betrayed him._

_“Let’s get back,” Sam smiled._

_The two began to walk away. Cas dashed to stand in front of them. He held his arm out to stop Sam, standing directly in front of Dean. He could never quite describe the feeling he experienced a mere second later._

_Instead of stopping, Sam passed right into and out of Cas’s arm. He sauntered by, not looking like he had a care in the world. But Dean?_

_Cas’s stomach dropped as Dean walked right_ through _him. As if he was a ghost. As if he was invisible. As if he was nothing._

_Cas swallowed in fear, drawing back as a frisbee passed right through his stomach. A boy easily caught it as if nothing was unusual._

_He was invisible._

_“Hey, Dean?” Sam said. “You coming?”_

_Dean looked up at Sam; he had paused after his…collision with Castiel. Cas couldn’t help but hyperventilate in dread and panic as Dean glanced over his shoulder._

_“I’ll be right there,” Dean assured his little brother._

_Cas watched in fright as Dean pulled out his phone. He flicked onto his second screen, and Cas’s heart skipped several beats in a row._

_There was a picture of Cas and Dean there. Dean had been holding the phone, looking at Cas who was peering at the camera, seemingly confused. Cas had his eyes narrowed and was leaning in a bit too close, distorting the image of his face a bit._

_Dean had his arm around Cas, looking like he was shaking his head. His chin was tipped toward Cas, and his eyes were half-closed, blurred with the motion of blinking._

_Cas remembered when Dean had taken that photo._

_Dean shook his head and kept walking. Under his breath, Cas was horrified to hear his voice say four words that made Cas shiver:_

_“Why’d you leave, Cas?” he said hopelessly._


	17. A Bittersweet Reunion

Cas was clearing the thought of what he’d just “dreamed” of out of his head when Dean staggered into the kitchen, which was where Cas had gone to empty his mind. It hadn’t worked so far.  
Cas honestly thought that the scariest part of the dream was how happy the brothers had been. Were they not missing him? Had it been so long that they could just move on? Or would they truly be happier if Cas wasn’t in the picture?  
All of those thoughts brought a terrible dread to Cas’s heart. He suddenly heard feet shuffling in the hall. A dull thump followed by a muffled curse. Then the shadow of a person passed over the wall as someone entered.  
“Cas?” Dean said blearily, as if he couldn’t quite believe his eyes.  
“Dean,” Cas rose, ready to pull the hunter into his arms and hold him close and try to comfort him and tell him everything would be okay.  
What he wasn’t ready for is Dean marching up to him and punching him. Hard. In the face. Sending Cas flying backwards and down into the chair he’d just gotten up from. That shouldn’t have caused him as much pain as it did.  
Cas grimaced, in both pain and shock, looking up at Dean with innocent and wide eyes. That was not the warm welcoming he’d been hoping for.  
Dean glared at him for a few moments before latching ahold of his wrist and yanking him to his feet and flying into a hug. Cas merely chuckled against his friend. He held onto Cas as tightly as he could.  
This was the greeting he’d been expecting.  
“I thought you were gone,” he said desperately, suddenly shoving Cas backwards again. Cas sighed. “Why didn’t you come back!?”  
Cas looked at him with sorrow in his expression, shocked to see that Dean’s light green eyes were filled with tears. He had never really seen Dean Winchester cry. Only one time, and that had been the worst day of his life.  
“I’m sorry, Dean. I would have. I stayed away because I thought I was protecting you,” Cas said quietly, hoping Dean would understand.  
But of course. He was talking to the most stubborn, opinionated, and bossy man on the planet. “Don’t give me that bullshit. You couldn’t possibly be that stupid.”  
“Dean, I really am sorry. But I also realized that being a Nephilim made me dangerous. There’s even said to be a price on our heads,” Cas said.  
“Well, all the more reason to stick around. Sam and I could protect you!” Dean snapped, crossing his arms over his muscular chest.  
“But I didn’t want you to. I want to fight my own fights, Dean. You need to learn that not everything is your responsibility,” Cas said sharply.  
“You could have at least come to tell me you were okay!” Dean shouted.  
“I helped you the best I could,” Cas protested softly.  
“Yeah, right,” Dean scoffed.  
“Dean, I wanted to be here.”  
“You let me think you were hurt! Or dead, or… something!” Dean pushed him back before yanking him back into a hug. “I thought I’d never see you again.”  
Cas waited until he was sure Dean had calmed down, then he hugged back. Now that he had the whole illusion-y thing in his mind, he took note of how solid Dean was. How strong and physical his body felt.  
“Dean,” he breathed. “It’s so good to see you again.”  
“Ditto,” Dean sighed happily.   
Cas hugged him even tighter, squeezing him up into his arms. Dean buried his face in Cas’s shoulder in a very childlike way. Cas only smiled, never having been this happy before. He was with Dean, and Dean was with him.  
When the two of them hesitantly pulled apart, Cas smiled at Dean with a gentle look in his ocean blue eyes.  
Dean looked at him, cautiously rubbing a hand over his throat. “What were you doing all that time anyway?”  
Cas hesitated. He couldn't exactly say he’d been hanging out with a homosexual half-demon and his stuttering blond fiancée. There were very few things Cas would hide from Dean, but his… friendship, with Chase would have to be one of them.  
“Nothing much. Watching over you. Sam. Helping a few people,” he lied.  
Dean, of course, saw right through him. “The truth, angel.”  
“I’ll tell you later,” Cas promised, and coming from anyone else, it was a way to shut Dean up. But from Cas? He meant it.  
Dean huffed a bit, but nodded. He understood. Cas had probably been through quite a lot while he was gone. Dean honestly didn’t care. He was just happy the angel was back. Hopefully back to stay.  
“Anyway, we need to get out of here,” Cas said, wincing at a wound he didn’t know he had. He chewed at his lip.  
Dean noticed and crossed his arms. “What’s wrong? You get hurt?”  
Cas decided to be honest with Dean for as long as he possibly could. He nodded a bit, not speaking as he pulled his dirty coat away from his shoulders. The white shirt underneath was blossoming with a small red flower. Dean looked concerned as Cas continued to take his shirt off. There was a slashing wound across his side, obviously from the werewolf’s claws. Dean came over to him.  
“Jesus. That doesn’t look good,” he said, trying to focus on the cut more than anything. He suddenly left the room.  
Cas waited in unbearable silence until his friend returned. Dean held a bottle of alcohol and some gauze in his hand. He knelt in front of Cas, and both of them felt the same spark in their hearts when Dean raised his eyes to meet Cas’s. They both ignored it.  
Cas stood still, not daring to move as Dean placed a piece of cotton or something on the wound. He jumped a bit when he felt the sting of the alcohol. Dean gave him an apologetic look as he kept going.  
He soon had the gash cleaned and covered. Cas looked down at his friend as Dean got up. He wasn’t sure what to say.  
He settled on, “Thank you.”  
Dean nodded. “Hang on. I’ll go grab you one of my extra shirts, since yours makes you look like a serial killer.”  
Cas watched him as he left again. He returned a few minutes later with one of his old black T-shirts in his hand. Cas pulled it on.  
Dean immediately looked away. He pretended not to notice how the light fabric hugged Cas’s waist, making him look thinner than normal, a fact typically hidden by the trench coat. He also pretended not to notice how the black outline of his broad shoulders rose and fell in gentle waves against the off-white background of the wall. Or how the black color made Cas’s blue eyes turn the color of a green ocean if he looked into the light at just the right angle. Or how Cas’s anxious smile was slightly off-balance in an endearing way.   
Cas immediately looked down too. He was sure Dean made this shirt look way better than he ever could. Dean was taller and more built and just looked better in general. Cas was smaller, skinnier, and couldn’t compare at all to Dean. He suddenly felt very self-conscious, becoming a bit too interested in his hands, which were jumping back in forth in front of him, the way he did when he was nervous or afraid.  
Dean looked up, and for one, golden moment, his jade green eyes met the deep, watery blue of Cas’s.


	18. Sick as a Dog

“Better?” Cas asked quietly.

Dean smiled. “One a scale of not to ten? Sixty-four,” he chuckled at his own joke, which made Cas smile.

Dean suddenly cleared his throat and turned his back. Cas came up behind him, seeing that Dean had his head lowered and he looked both afraid and somehow sorrowful all at the same time. A look only Dean Winchester could make attractive.

“Dean?” he asked gently. “What’s wrong?”

Dean sighed, seemingly deciding to be honest with Cas, too. “Sam hasn’t called me in a few days. I’m worried as hell.”

Cas nodded. “Would you like me to go check on him?”

“Please,” Dean said, nodding with wide and frightened eyes that somehow made him look even stronger than usual.

Cas nodded and blinked out. He ended up in Sam’s room at the hotel they’d arranged for him to stay at. At first he didn’t see anything, but it was what he heard that put him on edge. In the bathroom, he could hear retching and heaving. He knew the sound of someone throwing up enough to know that that was bad.

He walked in, and saw Sam knelt over the porcelain white toilet. He coughed as he threw up even more. Cas frowned. He knew that Sam, unlike Dean, wasn’t drunk. The only other thing was that he could be sick.

He heard vomit hitting water, and laid a hand on the Winchester’s back. Sam looked up at him in surprise, and Cas grimaced.

Sam was pale-faced with perspiration beading on his forehead. His eyes had solid black rings underneath and his cheeks had deep hollows, as if he hadn’t eaten or slept in a while. Cas was willing to bet he hadn’t. The angel frowned.

“What’s wrong with you, Sam?” he asked gently.

Sam shook his head, clawing a chunk of whatever it was he was throwing up out of his hair and sighed. “I don’t know. I just got sick yesterday.”

Cas nodded, looking Sam over. He didn’t see anything on the surface, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a problem. He looked deeper, trying to figure out exactly what it was that needed healing. There was nothing.

“Well, can I bring you back to the bunker?” Cas cocked his head to the side just enough to make his confused look one of mere curiosity.

Sam bit his lip and shrugged. “I really don’t want to worry Dean. He’s been so stressed out since you left.”

“Well, I’m back now, and he knows I’m staying. Should I take you home or not, Sam?” Cas wasn’t trying to be pushy, but he really wanted to get back to Dean as soon as it was humanly possible.

“No,” Sam shook his head. “No. I don’t want Dean to know.”

Cas sighed and took a seat next to the younger hunter, so his back was leaning against the stained bathtub. Sam turned his head down and threw up again. Cas felt really bad and tried again to figure out what the problem was, but he got absolutely nothing.

“I’ve tried to hide a lot of problems from your brother. It’s never a good idea, Sam,” Cas tried to reason with him.

Sam nodded. “I know, but he has enough problems right now.”

“Dean’s worried sick about you. Just come on back and we’ll get you some help,” the angel promised.

Sam looked down, knowing that Dean probably was freaking out. He sighed before looking into the toilet and throwing up again. Cas bit his lip, not sure if even he wanted Dean to know about this. But the hunter deserved to know.

“I…” Sam thought about it long and hard and decided Cas was right. “Fine.”

Cas smiled and helped Sam to his feet. He went straight to the bathroom in the bunker, and Sam bent over their toilet and threw up. The traveling was an excuse for that. Even Dean said that traveling with Cas made him queasy sometimes. 

Dean rushed in and saw Cas standing beside his brother, who was hurling up everything he’d eaten since his tenth birthday. Which, is Sam’s defense, wasn’t half as much as Dean, but it was still more than what he’d like to leave his body.

“Sam? What the hell?” he sounded almost angry, but both Sam and Cas knew that that’s how Dean was when he was afraid.

“Hey,” Sam said tiredly before lowering his head again.

“What’s wrong with him?” Dean snapped.

Cas shook his head. “I don’t know. But if he doesn’t get better soon, well… he’s already dehydrated with a fever of 102 degrees. You of all people know what that can do to a person,” Cas sounded apologetic as he explained to Dean just what could happen to his brother if they didn’t help him.

Cas spoke quietly so Sam couldn’t hear. If Sam didn’t get over whatever this was, it was very possible this could kill him.

Dean shook his head. “That’s stupid, Cas. It’s probably just a stomach virus or something that will go away.”

Cas shrugged. “Whatever it is, he’s had it for a few days.”

Dean frowned down at his brother. “Think he’ll be alright?”

Cas sighed. “I don’t know.”

Dean looked up, his eyes wide and fearful. Cas looked down, unsure of how he could help for once. Even if it was something he knew how to heal, his abilities had been failing him more and more.

Sam threw up yet again, and Dean shook his head. “This isn’t normal. There’s nothing sickness-wise that could make him puke so much.”

Cas sighed. “Dean, you know that if I had a say, I’d heal him right now. But I can’t heal what isn’t there.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean looked on the verge of panic. Cas couldn’t blame him. If Dean were like this, he’d be panicking too. Granted, he was very worried about Sam, but he was worried about Dean also. 

Sam coughed again. 

“There’s something wrong that I can’t see. I think the best option is to take him to someone who specializes in things like this. To be safe, you should take him to a hospital,” Cas advised gently, knowing that the Winchesters rarely went anywhere as themselves.

“No way,” Dean replied firmly. “We don’t do that. We can help ourselves, just like we always have.”

Cas had a feeling that would be his answer. “Dean, you have to consider it. For Sam’s wellbeing.”

“Are you sure they could help?”

“No, but it’s the only chance we have to make sure whatever it is is gone for good,” Cas replied slowly.

Dean sighed. “Fine. We’ll give him three days. If he’s not better by then, or getting ever worse, we’ll take him.”

Sam suddenly passed out at Dean’s feet.

“You know, let’s make it two,” he corrected himself grimly.


	19. Overdue Guys' Chat

Cas had taken Sam back to his room, covering him with a heavy blue blanket and placing a wet rag over his eyes and forehead. He looked at ease, almost. Dean had brought the trashcan to the side of his bed and put a tall blue water bottle filled with ice water on the stand next to him.

Dean and Cas stood over Sam, who had fallen asleep. Dean looked a lot more worried than he was letting on. Cas just stayed silent, wishing he could figure out what was wrong with Sam and fix it.

“Sam’s going to be alright,” Dean murmured, sounding like he was trying to convince himself. “He’s tough.”

“He is,” Cas agreed. “Just as tough as you.”

Dean scoffed. “Yeah, right. That would mean he’s a pathetic-ass loser so weak they can’t even kill one God damned werewolf.”

Cas shook his head. “Please don’t say that. You’re twice as strong as anyone I know. But I do want to know why you seemed so… startled, by that werewolf. You seemed almost distracted or something.”

“On top of freaking out about Sam? I was worried about your dumb ass. I didn’t know if you ran off and got yourself killed, I didn’t know what to think. That’s why he caught me off-guard,” Dean snapped.

Cas bit his lip lightly. “Dean, please don’t lie to me. I know there’s more to it than that. What did he say to you?”

Dean looked away. “He told me you were dead, alright? That’s why I was so shocked to see you!”

Cas was taken aback. He’d known the werewolf had said something to bother his friend, but he hadn’t at all imagined it would have been that. He wasn’t sure whether to feel guilty or flattered. But the look in Dean’s eyes told him he should feel guilty.

“I’m sorry, Dean. But I’m here now. And I swear to you I’ll stay this time,” he put a hand on Dean’s shoulder. Shockingly, Dean leaned into the touch. In no time, Cas had his arm around him, almost in a hug.

“I know. Thanks, angel,” Dean smiled.

Cas hesitated. “It’s clear I’m not exactly an angel. Tell me the truth here. Does it bother you in any way?”

“What? That you have a human side? That’s racist,” Dean chuckled, trying to make light of a grave situation. 

“Dean, please,” Cas said, his eyes almost sad. “I’m serious.”

Dean nodded at the door. “Let’s have this conversation where we’re not disturbing the little brother.”

Cas nodded and followed his friend out. Dean led him down to the slightly dirty leather couch and they sat next to each other. Dean had apparently left this place go some in the few days that Cas was gone. Or had it been weeks? Cas truthfully hadn't been keeping track of the days he’d gone without seeing Dean.

“Now, talk to me,” Dean folded his hands in his lap expectantly.

Cas wasn't sure how to voice his thoughts without coming across as weak or needy, two things Dean definitely didn't like. “Well, I just… being part human is a big deal for me, Dean. After all that time being an outcast and never knowing why? It’s not like finding out you’re adopted, or finding out your real mother died when you were young. It’s so much different. Knowing why I’m different has more of an impact on me and those in my presence than you could ever imagine.”

Dean took a moment to let that sink in. “Do you think it’s a bad thing to be a human?”

“I think I don’t know,” Cas replied. “Humans get sick-“ both he and Dean thought of Sam and both of them winced. “They age and they die and then they have eternal rest. But they also have things I’ve always wanted.”

“Like what?” Dean crossed his arms.

Cas looked Dean directly in the eye and didn't miss a beat as he answered. “Love.”

Dean looked startled by that response. He looked down, suddenly very interested in that torn chunk of leather on the couch. Cas looked down. The piece of leather was indeed very interesting, but he was more concentrated on the way Dean’s hand moved as he lightly picked at it, sure and quick.

Dean looked up and met the angel’s gaze. Neither of them moved. This was a talk that was long overdue between the two of them.

“Cas,” Dean finally said. “When you were gone, I thought I lost you forever. And that thought scared the hell out of me. You have to promise me that you’ll never leave without telling me again. Then we can figure this whole Nephilim shit out.”

Cas pursed his lips, looking at his shoes. “I promise.”

Dean nodded. “Good. Then to answer your first question, it doesn’t bother me at all that you’re a Nephilim. In fact, you having human in you just makes you closer to me and Sam. I think it’s a blessing in disguise.”

“What if you’re wrong?” Cas said, trying to make Dean see. “What if it’s really a curse and it ends up getting you or me killed? Or worse?”

Dean shrugged. But what he said next was so unexpected and so startling that Cas wasn’t sure he heard right. “I’d be willing to die for you, anyway.”

Cas turned to his friend sharply, looking at him with horrified eyes. “Dean, no. You can’t ever think like that. Your life is worth far more than mine. You and Sam both. Don’t ever think you should die for me.”

Dean shook his head. “It’s a best friend thing, Cas. We do that for each other.”

Cas was shocked. Dean had just said that Cas was his best friend. Something that seemed like such an honor coming from Dean Winchester. Cas felt his breath hitch in his throat, not sure what he should say.

“You alright?” Dean asked.

“I’m fine,” Cas lied. “It’s good to be here again, Dean.”

Dean smirked, accepting Cas’s change of the subject. “And it’s damn good to have you back, angel.”

Cas smiled, and suddenly the guys were hugging. It was so good to be with Dean again. So good to feel his strong muscles rippling under his shirt. So good to smell his familiar scent of blood and dirt. So good to hear his deep and commanding voice, which turned so gentle at times. So good to see his face again.

Dean grinned when they pulled apart, looking happy just to be in Cas’s presence. Something that made Cas feel really, really good.

The hunter got up. “I’m gonna go get some food. Do you want anything?” he asked over his shoulder as he went into the kitchen.

Cas listened in as he heard Dean singing softly to himself. Even if he wouldn’t admit it, Dean Winchester had the most beautiful voice that Cas had ever heard. It was deep and low, yet rich and soothing. A sound Cas loved to hear.

Dean slid back into the room, finishing the song with a loud, “Eye of the tiger!” Cas laughed under his breath. He’d gotten some beef jerky and was eating that. He tossed Cas some as well.

Cas smiled, in spite of the stress, simply because Dean’s smile was so freaking contagious.


	20. Strike a Deal

In the next forty-eight hours, it was clear Sam wasn’t getting any better. Cas had a very clear opinion on what they should do. Dean was much less decisive.

Dean was out getting fever medicine, and Cas had been told to keep a sharp eye on Sam. He did just that, watching over the younger Winchester protectively. Sam had been sleeping most of these last two days and when he wasn’t, he was throwing up or complaining of being dizzy.

Sam looked terrible. His hands were clammy and clenched into permanent fists, his eyelids were darkened almost to purple, and he was thinner than usual as well. Cas figured that was because he wasn’t keeping anything he was eating down.

Sam shifted onto his side, groaning in pain. Cas put a hand on his shoulder, doing the only thing he could possibly do: lifting some of the pain and taking it onto himself. Cas didn’t know what was wrong, but feeling it only made him worry more.

“Sam, can you hear me?” he asked, not surprised when he got absolutely no response. Sam shifted, and Cas could see that his hair was glued to the pillow with sweat.

The hunter burrowed his head into the pillow, shivering despite the fact that he was dripping sweat. Cas wasn’t sure if this was a sickness or something more, but he intended fully to find out. He looked at Sam, noticing not for the first time how different yet similar Sam was to his older brother.

“Cas?” Dean walked in. “How is he?”

“He’s getting worse, Dean. You need to get him to the hospital, or to someone else who knows about this kind of thing,” Cas crossed his arms in the way that Dean always did when he was trying to make a point.

“Cas, I can’t do that. We never go out and show ourselves as who we are. We’d blow our cover for good,” Dean snapped.

“Dean, what’s more important to you? Keeping your cover, or making sure your brother is okay?” Cas normally wouldn't be so blunt about this, especially not to Dean especially not about Sam.

“You know the answer to that!” Dean growled, taking a step forward.

Cas sighed. He did know the answer to that and more than anything he wanted to agree with Dean on this one, but he just couldn’t. He looked at the floor, noticing a brownish yellow stain on the tan rug. He wondered to himself what it was from.

“I know you want to protect Sam more than anything,” Cas said gently. “But by not getting him help…”

Cas trailed off, the implication clear.

“Once we do this, everyone will know who we are. Demons and humans alike. We’ll be dead in days if not sooner, especially if someone finds this place,” Dean looked at his brother, looking at war with himself.

“Sam will die anyway if you don’t get him help!” Cas replied.

“No, he won’t! I’ll look this up, then we’ll figure out what this is and we’ll fix it, just the same as we always do!” Dean stepped forward again, so his chest brushed up against Cas’s, his way of being intimidating.

Cas had to look up a bit, considering Dean was taller. “Dean, you of all people should know the risk you’re trying to take.”

Dean looked down, gnawing at his lip. “Cas, look. Maybe you should try to figure some stuff out on your own for a while. So I can focus more on Sam and less on arguing with you about Sam.”

Cas tried to hide the hurt he felt at that. “You want me to leave?”

Dean shook his head. “No. No, never. At least not for too long. Just long enough to maybe find out what’s up with him? I’m not saying you should do anything crazy. Just ask around any angel buddies you might have. See if they know anything about this. In the meantime, I’ll keep an eye on Sam.”

“Dean…” Cas began, sensing that Dean was furious at him for some unknown reason. It wasn’t surprising anymore.

“Just go, Cas. Come back sometime later today, alright? Unless I call you earlier than that. See what you can do until then,” it sounded more like an order than any kind of suggestion now.

“Okay, Dean,” Cas sighed and immediately left the bunker, listening intently for any prayers to come his way.

He wandered the streets, not sure what to do. He knew that Dean was upset, and the only reason he’d agreed to leave was to give the hunter space. Dean wasn’t like most people. When he was stressed, he liked to isolate himself rather than get comfort. 

Cas, on the other hand, was lost when he was faced with a problem. Like back when Crowley had been sort of working with Dean, when Dean was kind of a demon, but kind of a human. He didn’t know where to turn then.

Wait a second. Crowley. 

Cas grinned slyly to himself. If anyone knew what was wrong with Sam, it would be the King of Hell, and Cas was ready to beg for his help if he so deemed it necessary. 

He went to one of the many secret entrances to Hell, in this case being the one behind the Hollywood sign, which was covered in graffiti, shockingly enough. The letters looked so white from far away, but up close they were a mess.

Cas looked down before stepping into Hell. He thought about what he was doing. Dean had told him not to do anything crazy, and this was straight up insane.

But he wasn’t just doing it for Sam. Cas also had his own purpose for going to someone like Crowley for help.

It was his powers. Chances were, Crowley was one of the first people to know about the whole Nephilim situation. He probably knew all about what Cas was experiencing as far as his abilities went. Maybe he could get Crowley to help him, with the right bribe.

Cas took a deep breath and crossed into the land of the dead, taking one glance over his shoulder as the portal closed behind him.

Hell was dark and hard to navigate. Unless you were an angel.

Cas weaved in and out of halls easily until he reached Crowley’s so-called “courtroom”, when so-called “important meetings” were held. The thought itself made Cas click his tongue and roll his eyes.

Crowley turned on heel at the sound of his door opening. “Castiel? To what do I owe the pleasure of this little trespass?”

Perhaps the most annoying thing here was that Crowley was smiling. As if an angel sneaking into Hell and trying to force his hand was something he dealt with often. But then Cas didn’t know. Maybe it was.

“Hello, Crowley,” Cas kept his voice low and even. “I’m here on… business.”

“Ah?” Crowley looked eager as he waved his hand, and all of his demons surrounding him scattered. “Tell me, Nephilim. What do you want?”

“So you know I’m a Nephilim?”

“Oh, please. Dean Winchester knows. When he knows something, it’s safe to assume the rest of the world already figured it out,” Crowley taunted.

Cas bit back his anger. “Well, that’s not why I’m here anyway.”

Crowley nodded. “Yes, yes. Let’s get down to business. What can you do for me and what should I give you in exchange?"


	21. Cheater Cheater

Cas wasn’t surprised when five demons slowly began to form a circle around him. They stood perfectly still after getting into their little trap, sneering at the Nephilim as Crowley stood up and walked to stand in front of Castiel.

“So, Castiel,” Crowley straightened out his gray jacket, as he often did when he was planning something. Cas was stiff and on guard as he came forward even more. “You know that there is a bounty on the Nephilim species, right? Their blood is worth even more than all the souls in Hell.”

Cas nodded. “I know that. Which is why I’m here to ask you for information on Nephilim. And as you probably know, there is something wrong with Sam Winchester. He could be dying for all Dean and I know. I know there’s something you could do.”

“Theoretically, yes,” Crowley confirmed, his accent making the ‘theoretically’ sound awkward and clunky.

Cas came forward. “You can?”

“With a snap of my fingers and a slight incantation,” Crowley replied easily. “But what in the name of Hell would give me any kind of incentive to do that?”

Cas clenched his fists to subdue the rage boiling up inside him, like an overheated poison. He looked down, trying to list reasons not to lunge at Crowley and strangle the life out of him with his bare hands. He honestly wasn’t coming up with much.

Crowley’s room slightly resemble a control room. There were monitors up everywhere, and a huge keyboard that looked to have only numbers and symbols on it, in a language Cas didn’t know. The floor was darkened concrete, stained in more than one spot with blood. Cas decided he really didn’t want to know. The walls resembled those of a dark cave, black and moist and filled with uneven ridges.

“I’ll give you whatever you want in exchange for healing Sam and giving me information,” Cas decided, tucking his trembling hands in his pockets. “Name your price.”

Crowley seemed to consider it. Cas looked at the demons surrounding him. They all assumed hostile stances, saying that if Cas made any kind of move to fight, they would kill him without hesitation.

“You’ll give me anything I want?” Crowley challenged with a coy look. “Oh, I enjoy it so much when you idiots get desperate. You and those dimwitted hunters don’t know the first thing about negotiation.”

“Enough stalling, Crowley. What do you want?” Cas demanded, letting his voice drop to a dangerous level.

“Your head on a pike. But since I need you alive, how about your surrender?”

“What do you mean?” Cas snarled. 

“I mean that you give yourself up to me, become my guinea pig, so to speak, and I’ll fix any problem you may have,” Crowley held a hand out for Cas.

“Not in a million years,” Cas turned his back, seeing the demons drop into attacking positions. He should have known it wouldn’t be easy.

“You could take the deal, and Sam could live,” Crowley said. “I really don’t understand your denial.”

“Or I could go to someone who doesn’t want to make a trade for my personal freedom,” Cas responded sharply.

“Well, let’s do it your way, then. Get him,” Crowley turned his back to whatever was about to unfold, looking exceedingly bored.

Each of the demons attacked. They were obviously Crowley’s strongest, because they appeared to be on his front line. And the worst part was that each of them held an angel blade, all pointed at Cas. This was one fight whose winner would have to be determined by sheer luck. Something Cas felt short on, here of late.

The demons looked between each other, a silent plan forming. The one in front of Cas, in the body of a young brunette, let her eyes go black and she grinned, gnashing her teeth in an animalistic way. Cas jerked his chin a fraction of an  inch, an invitation for her to try something. A promise it wouldn’t end well.

But a demon jumped on him from behind, arms locked around his neck, trying to pull him down onto the ground. Cas leaned forward so the demon couldn’t pull him back, having to spread his feet apart to keep his balance. 

Another demon rammed into his side, knocking him down. Three of the demons were on him now. One straddling his waist, two holding his arms down. They all grinned cruelly at him as the other two stood over him.

Cas waited a few seconds before bringing his knee up into the demon’s back, making him grunt as he rolled off of Cas. The momentum allowed Cas to free his right arm and shove the other demon away.

The five of them gathered above Cas, making sure that standing wasn’t an option. Cas decided to just kill them on the ground then. He whipped out his angel blade, slashing and not caring which of them he took out in the process.

He caught the young female’s throat, and she screamed as she died there in front of him. Cas wished he felt more regret. 

The largest demon- a redheaded male- punched at Cas, getting him in the stomach and making him wheeze in pain. He doubled over for a moment, feeling the wind knocked out of him. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to keep fighting.

Another demon swept his legs out from under him, and his angel blade clattered to the floor. The Nephilim watched as it spun to a stop against the wall. He winced as the remaining four demons held him down.

“Castiel, you’re beaten,” Crowley said, coming over to Cas and yawning. Yawning. As if he was bored.

“I’m not,” Cas managed, but it was a weak statement.

“Enough,” Crowley said. The demons forced Cas’s hands up in front of him as Crowley put handcuffs on him. They had angel traps engraved into them, and they burned like fire if Cas even dared to move. “You’re mine. I have a lot of clients who have been looking for a rare specimen such as yourself.”

Crowley leaned down close to Cas’s face. Cas glared up at him from where he’d been forced to his knees.

Cas worked up a mouthful of blood and God knows what else, spitting it into Crowley’s face, making the demon draw back.

“Ugh,” he said in disgust as he wiped saliva off his precious demon face. He looked at Cas angrily for a moment, drawing his foot back and kicking him, sending Cas tumbling backwards and landing on the floor a few feet away.

Crowley laughed. “So much for the most powerful species. Lock him up, and if he even gets close to escaping, kill him.”

The demons nodded as they yanked Cas to his feet and began to drag him to whatever Crowley had in store for him.

As they went, Cas thought of Dean and wondered to himself if the hunter was even remotely worried about him. Cas was willing to bet he wasn’t, after he had just told Cas to leave earlier that day.


	22. If You're Going Through Hell

Cas winced as they managed to force him inside of a concrete cell. The spot on his neck where the werewolf had bitten him was aching again, and he honestly just wanted a few moments of peace. And being in that cell, that’s what he ignorantly assumed he would get. But he was in Hell.

Crowley came to the bars, smiling, seeing Cas sitting with his back against the wall, his wrists still cuffed in his lap. Cas looked as exhausted as he felt. Bruised and battered from head to toe. It looked like he was already dying without whatever Crowley planned for him.

“Hello, Castiel. Apologies for my methods, but you do not realize how valuable you are,” Crowley gave him a mockingly pitiful look.

Cas sighed. “If you’re going to kill me, kill me. Because there’s no way I’m going to be your little experiment.”

“You say that like you actually have a say in what I do to you,” Crowley seemed to find the very thought of Cas’s resistance humorous. Something that would normally have made Cas mad, but he just wasn’t in the mood anymore.

Cas looked away, trying not to let the fear in his eyes show. He knew that they were going to do awful things to him until they got whatever it was they wanted. He didn’t know what that was, but he wasn’t going to make it easy for them to get it. He would make sure they went through as much hell as he did.

“What do you want with me, Crowley?” Cas growled.

“It’s simple. I want to figure out what is so special about the Nephilim species. You are perhaps the strongest angel I’ve ever met, and that makes me want an army of demons just like you. With whatever makes your blood so great coursing through their veins.”

“You’re insane,” Cas stated simply. 

Crowley rolled his eyes as if Cas’s presence was annoying him. Good. Cas hoped it was. Cas hoped he got so annoyed that he demanded a one on one fight between the two of them. Then Cas would have something to take his anger out on. 

“Maybe. But I just want you to evaluate your life choices before I begin to torture you,”  Crowley said and turned his back on Cas, leaving him lying there alone.

Cas looked around and surveyed the cell Crowley had decided to put him in. It was damp and cold, and he had to bite his tongue to keep from shivering. The concrete was stained with mostly blood, but also a few other mystery substances that Cas had no desire to name. There was a single wooden chair in the corner, but someone had broken its bottom front leg off a few inches above where it should have been so it was forever doomed to be lopsided. Cas imagined sitting on it and just rocking back and forth for fun.

Cas had barely concluded his observations when two large male demons came in. They smiled at him in a way that would typically make Cas prepare for battle. But now all he prepared for was a lot of pain.

The larger demon flashed a yellow grin at Cas, coming over and jerking him to his feet. The handcuffs prevented Cas from struggling much. Not that he planned to anyway. He let them lead him down a long narrow hallway.

There were several hall lights lining the walls, and the demons, each with a hand on one of Cas’s shoulders, seemed to keep their eyes on those lights more than Cas. Cas couldn’t blame them. No one was exactly a big fan of him after all he’d done.

His mind flashed to Dean. At least he had one real friend. He hoped that Dean was figuring everything out with Sam okay. He also hoped that when Dean decided to worry about him that he wouldn’t worry too much.

Crowley waited for them in a room that was obviously a torture chamber. The very look of the room sent a chill up Cas’s spine. He glared at Crowley, thinking how quickly this had all taken a turn. Just this morning he had been with Dean, and now he was doubting he’d ever see him again.

Cas was forced down onto a metal table, where they strapped his wrists, ankles, and shoulders down. He gritted his teeth at the strap around his shoulders. He hated being restrained. Hated it with a passion.

Crowley smiled at him, not pleasantly, as he looked at Cas. “The first thing I need is your blood. And a lot of it. So if you’ll kindly hold still?”

The King of Hell brandished an angel blade, Cas realized it was his own. He took a deep breath as Crowley set the blade at his wrist. He cut in deep and Cas grimaced as he felt blood begin to flow.

“Perfect,” Crowley pulled out a small vial, and Cas wasn’t sure why he didn’t just use a needle, but he also didn’t ask. “Now for the fun part. The torture I enjoy.”

Cas winced as Crowley drug the blade down his chest, slicing deep into his skin and causing an immense amount of pain.

 

Sam wasn’t getting better. Dean called for Cas, but there was no response. Of course, that worried him, but he couldn’t do anything about it until Sam was taken care of. Because whether Cas liked it or not, Sam was Dean’s priority.

“Castiel, hurry up,” Dean muttered. He looked this brother, who looked just as bad, if not worse, than before. “Fuck it,” he decided.

Dean took Sam’s wrist and twisted his arm up around his shoulders. Sam smelled like blood and puke, with a little sweat in there somewhere. Dean almost turned his head away, chewing at his lip. He carried Sam to the Impala and laid him down across the backseat. Sam groaned a bit but kept his eyes closed.

“Easy, Sammy,” Dean muttered. “Try not to hurl in my car.”

Sam cracked a weak smile, his eyes still shut, and Dean sighed. He didn’t have a choice anymore. Sam was going to die if someone didn’t help him.

Dean drove all the way to the hospital, playing that shitty music that Sam liked all the way. He reached back to give his brother a shake. “You with me, Sam?”

“LemmesleepDean,” Sam muttered, burying his face in the leather of the seat. Dean shook his head.

“Try to stay alive til we get where we’re going,” Dean said, training his eyes forward. he tried to ignore the insane amount of concern he was feeling for his brother, but his mind did drift to Cas. He’d focus on Cas after he got Sammy taken care of.

“Mmhm,” Sam replied tiredly.

Dean shook his head again, and pulled up to the hospital a few minutes later. He pulled Sam up and dragged his brother inside. Immediately, he was greeted by a girl in Star Wars scrubs and blue and black sneakers. She was fucking hot.

“Hey, there,” she said, looking at Sam worriedly. “What’s wrong?”

Dean took a deep breath in through his nose, cringing at the smell of alcohol and warm wool. He hated hospitals. He looked at his brother.

“I don’t know. He’s been throwing up for days,” he said quietly.

She nodded. “Well, I have a room available. Bring him with me,” she said, leading Dean down a narrow hallway. He eased Sam down onto the hospital bed. The nurse chick began to look Sam over.

After she stuck him with two IVs, one in his right hand, the other in the crook of his left arm, she gave him a shot of something before turning to Dean, who’d been trying to stare anywhere but at her.

“Okay, I gave him something to subdue any symptoms, and something to keep his fever down. He’s dehydrated, so I’m also getting some liquids back in him. I’m going to be your nurse for the duration of your visit. My name is Elizabeth. The doctor will be in to see you shortly,” and with that, she sauntered out of the room, Dean’s eyes glued to her ass. She was one sexy bitch. Dean smirked.

He looked at Sam, who coughed. He only prayed his little brother would be alright. Then he thought about Cas.


	23. Traitors, Friends, and a Gay Demon

Cas laid still, because if he moved, he’d instantly regret it. It had been countless hours since he’d arrived and the demons seemed to be on what Cas had come to call “Torture Shifts.” When one finished, another would come in. And it would start all over again.

They had moved out of hell, dragging him to an old warehouse back on Earth. The same place Crowley had kept the other angels he’d taken. Crowley’s torturing studio.

They’d done many things, including holding his head under ice cold water for way too long and then yanking him up long enough for him to gasp only to force him back down again. They’d even done more creative things, like carving an angel trap into his wrist, which was one of the most painful things he’d ever felt.

The weird part was that they recorded what they did on a laptop, and they recorded his reaction. What Crowley was trying to figure out was a mystery to Cas, but every time he tried to open his mouth, the pain would increase. 

This was the fourth demon in the last three or four hours. Cas just wanted to pass out. He begged himself to fall unconscious. Just. End. The. Pain.

The demon towered over him, grinning slyly. “I’m only the preview of your next… guard. He’s the most creative we have on our watch.”

Cas closed his eyes. Why couldn’t he pass out? Everything else about him was human. Why couldn’t he just pass out like every other human in pain? He gritted his teeth as hard as he possibly could, bracing himself.

The demon grabbed him by the bottom of his jaw, forcing him to look away from the demon. He struggled pointlessly. He felt a blade slice into where you normally would when extracting an angel’s grace, but the demon cut vertically, and the cut went up and down. Try as he might, Cas could never quite describe what followed.

It felt as though something had dug into his very soul and cut it open and was fishing around inside to see what he was made of. But the pain was very real and physical too. He would try to explain it to Sam later, and Sam would sit there with a quizzical expression, and he just wouldn’t understand. The pain. It was all he knew. He bit his lip so hard it bled. It hurt. Why did it hurt so much?

The demon slid a hand over the wound, and it healed. The awful pain started to fade. When it finally subsided, the demon gave him one last smirk before he sauntered out. Cas was left there, cringing and in so much pain he was surprised it didn’t kill him.

He heard a vaguely familiar voice talking to the demon who’d just left. “So who is he? And what am I supposed to be figuring out?”

“Just record his reaction to whatever you do, but be creative. We already half-killed him, so we’re gonna need some ways of torturing him that isn’t going to ruin him permanently,” the demon replied.

The familiar voice sounded at ease. “Fine.”

It was at that moment that someone came in, and Cas was shocked at what he saw. It was indeed someone he knew.

“Chase?” he groaned.

“Castiel?” Chase sounded horrified. 

“You’re… with Crowley?” Cas managed, forcing himself to speak clearly despite the pain he was in.

“I do work for Crowley occasionally. But not for no reason.”

“Why?” Cas breathed. It hurt. Why wasn’t the pain going away?

“Morgan’s medical bills are through the roof. Crowley can pay for it easily, so in exchange for a few times a week, he would give me whatever we needed,” Chase confessed, as if he were admitting something he never had before.

“Are you going to finish this?” Cas’s voice broke. He was trembling with the thought of what would happen if Chase did decide to continue this charade.

“I didn’t know you were here… when they told me I had someone to ‘visit’ with. I didn’t know it was you,” Chase said slowly. 

Cas looked up at him, his eyes filled with plea. He couldn’t take much more of this. He could only pray that Chase would be as good a friend as he had previously thought. He doubted that highly, though.

“So of course I’m not gonna continue this bullshit. You don’t deserve this. You didn’t do anything wrong,” Chase said firmly. “I’m gonna help you get your feathery ass out of this hellhole.”

Cas breathed a sigh of relief and gave Chase a grateful look. He got the feeling this demon hybrid would be a better friend than he ever intended. Assuming he was being honest about helping Cas out of here.

 

Dean was convinced by the hot nurse whose name escaped him- Eliza? Elizabeth? Something of the nature- that Sam would be alright for a while. His brother wasn’t getting noticeably better, but he hadn’t gotten worse either. It was time to find his angel.

He drove back to the bunker, thinking about it long and hard. Where would Cas have gone, and why wasn’t he coming back? Dean wasn’t incredibly optimistic at that point. He figured something had gone wrong. Otherwise he’d have yet another reason to be pissed at Cas.

“Castiel, if you can hear me, get your angelic ass back here now. You said you were gonna stay,” Dean said with an annoyed tone of voice.

He thought about Cas. What would Cas do in this situation? When Cas didn’t know where to turn, he’d turn to the exact person he shouldn’t. That was one thing Dean knew for certain about the angel. 

Dean also knew that Cas was extremely naive. When he got an idea in his thick skull, he’d believe just about anything. Even the worst people in the world. 

He sighed in frustration as his mind flashed to Crowley. Even Cas wasn’t that stupid. 

But Dean had been wrong before.

He knew where two of Crowley’s hideouts were. He figured he’d check them out and if Cas wasn’t in either of them… well, he’d have to figure out where to go from there. He was more worried about the angel than he wanted to admit. There was a certain gentility about Cas that made Dean feel relaxed for a change. 

Dean pulled up to the first one. A warehouse that looked pretty damn abandoned. Dean got out of the Impala and looked around. It was small, and not exactly the best place for an evil lair, but Dean didn't judge.

He stepped over a trash bag overflowing with rotten food, old takeout boxes, and a plethora of maggots. The odor itself nearly made him throw up. He pushed open the door and pulled out his MagLite and began skimming it over the walls.

He stepped inside, and as his boot collided with the ground, it send a billow of dust up into his face, sending him into a coughing fit. Dean coughed once more than he needed to, blinking as he looked around.

Everything was dark and coated in cobwebs, including an old McDonald’s cup that had once held sweet tea. Dean frowned. No one could have been here in years.

He left, somewhat dejected, as he returned to his Baby. He got in the driver’s seat, not at all enjoying being alone. He needed his brother and his angel in order to be truly happy. As much as he hated to admit it.

So it was off to try yet again to find Cas.


	24. Why So Rude?

Chase smiled at Cas, trying to look reassuring, as he gently undid the restraints pinning the angel to the cold metal. It was the kind of cold that gave you chills until you’d been subjected to it for a while. Cas, personally, had been subjected to it for far too long. He winced as he suddenly felt the raw spots on his wrists where the straps had been rubbing away at his flesh when he tried to struggle.

“They really messed you up,” Chase commented, trying to be light about a rather grim situation. Cas was seriously hurt, and the worst part was that he had no way of finding out how bad until he saw Dean again.

Chase carefully freed Cas’s shoulders and stepped back, naturally assuming his job was done. Assuming Cas could sit and stand for himself, because that’s just how tough the Nephilim species was. Assuming wrong.

Cas barely moved, lightly pressing down with the palms of his hands, leaning back. His entire body ached and begged for him to lie still. Stubbornly, he tried and failed again to sit up. The angel could only grimace.

Chase put a hand on Cas’s back, right between the shoulder blades, right where a demon had been hammering on him earlier. Cas yelped, and Chase immediately moved his hand away, apologizing hesitantly.

“It’s alright,” Cas cringed. “Just hurts a little.”

Chase instead took his arm, which didn't feel much better, and tugged him to his feet, being as gentle as possible. He gingerly slipped Cas’s arm around his shoulders, then began to half-carry, half-drag him through the narrow halls of this hellhouse Crowley called a hideout. Cas tried to keep from passing out.

“Hang on, Castiel,” Chase said. “We’ll get out of here.”

But nothing was ever quite so simple. A hoard of demons were already in pursuit of them, and Chase had to quickly pick Cas up bridal style and run. Cas winced as his foot bumped into a door frame. That was definitely a tender spot.

Chase moved faster, still muttering apologies to the Nephilim in his arms.

 

Dean was moving too fast, Normally, he’d worry about crashing the damn car, but he knew when his angel needed him. And that time was right now. He drove even faster before pulling up to the second warehouse.

“Fuck me,” he muttered, seeing demons stationed on every corner of the roof. Could nothing just be easy anymore?

He frowned, calculating in his mind the events to come. Without Sammy by his side, killing demons was a real task. Sam was always the one to determine the odds and provide back-up. Right now, Dean didn’t have time to worry about odds, and it looked like he would have to be his own back-up.

He moved into view, and immediately a demon charged him. He rolled his eyes in annoyance. Dean hated it when they did that. Acting all big and tough right before taking a stab to the gut. Dean drove his blade through the demon’s abdomen, watching as it smoked out. One less son of a bitch to worry about.

“Dean Winchester,” a voice said from behind him. He whirled to see a man with glassy black eyes. A demon.

“Have we met?” Dean’s eyebrow jumped at hearing his name.

“Not exactly. Let’s just say I had some fun with your boyfriend this morning. What’s his name again?” the demon looked like he was enjoying crushing Dean with his words. “Was it Castiel? Yeah, he kept whining for you when I got the pleasure of torturing him. Like he expected you to save him.”

Dean had to refrain from lunging. “What did you do to him?”

The demon merely smiled, and Cas’s frightened and pained eyes flashed in Dean’s mind. The thought of his angel getting hurt by these bastards sent Dean into a state of rage he didn’t even know existed.

“We simply tested his reactions to different levels of pain,” the demon sneered, and Dean knew that these assholes had done something awful. “Like, his reaction to us slashing an angel blade across his chest seven or eight times was interesting. He kinda sounded like someone drop-kicked a basset hound puppy.”

Dean let out a snarl and shoved his knife through the demon’s heart. Then he turned and made a beeline for the entrance, ignoring anything and everything until his angel was safe again. Dean sprinted through the halls.

 

Chase sighed as the demons began to catch up to them. He held the Nephilim tightly, knowing there would be a fight. He couldn’t expect to have a mini-brawl with these guys and protect Castiel at the same time. It would surely come to the point of him having to choose between the two.

“Hold on, Castiel,” Chase said. The angel’s eyes were wandering about, as if his vision was constantly going in and out of focus. Chase flinched at the sight of him. He would torture nearly anyone for Crowley. But not Castiel. Castiel was his friend. He wanted to prove that to the Nephilim once and for all.

The demons were catching up even quicker now, all of them yelling things like, “Traitor!” and some obscenities. Chase took that as wholesome motivation to run faster. He gritted his teeth as he moved, trying to figure out how to lose the mob behind him.

There were a few threats thrown into the mixture, and Chase was suddenly afraid to carry this out. What if they chose to go after Morgan instead of him? He’d die first. But what if they never stopped? What if Crowley decided to put Chase near the top of his hitlist for this betrayal? Was he really willing to risk Morgan’s life for this angel he barely knew? Not that he had time to consider it now.

Chase steeled himself against his thoughts and charged ahead at the highest speed he could reach with an angel in his arms.

 

Dean charged into the hall and saw some guy sprinting toward him. He tensed and readied himself for a fight, until he saw what the guy was holding. In his arms was Cas, all battered and bruised.

“Who the hell are you?” Dean growled, putting out a hand to stop the dude.

“I’m the guy who’s gonna beat your skull in if you don’t move,” the guy replied, his voice bitter but frantic.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean snapped, hating this guy. First he was touching his angel, then he had the nerve to mouth Dean off in the middle of the hall.

Cas opened his eyes a bit. “Dean…” he groaned surprising them both. 

The younger guy looked up at the Winchester, shocked. “You’re Dean? Dean Winchester?”

“Last I checked,” Dean growled, hearing footsteps pounding in the hall.

“Well, then,” his eyes softened as he eased Cas down into Dean’s arms, being gentle. “I believe you should be holding this.”

“Who is that guy?” Dean asked Cas.

A demon suddenly appeared in the hallway and Chase’s eyes went black. Dean gasped. Chase was a demon, he realized.


	25. An Eye For an Eye

Chase had just barely gotten the demon down and dead when Dean suddenly starting yelling over at him, looking enraged. Chase honestly didn’t care. They had to move. Otherwise a mass of demons would be on them like flies on cow dung.

“You’re a fucking demon!” Dean shouted. He looked at Cas desperately, not at all understanding. “He’s a demon!”

Cas nodded lightly. “He’s actually half demon,” he whispered tiredly. “But he’s also my friend, Dean.”

“We kill demons!” Dean growled. “We don't work with them!”

“Meg,” Cas reminded him pointedly. “Whichever demon it was that Sam was with. Please don’t do anything rash, Dean. I really trust him.”

Dean bit back his anger at Chase for even daring to come near his angel, then nodded. “Whatever. Let’s just get moving and we can talk about this when we’re not being chased by a plethora of those assholes.”

Chase looked back the hall, and his expression darkened. “Too late,” he said, assuming a hostile stance.

Dean nodded slowly. The demons were standing less than ten feet away from them, and there was surely going to be a fight if any of them moved a muscle. Dean grimaced, holding Cas tighter. Then he looked at the so-called “half-demon.”

“There’s no way we get out of this,” he observed.

“Yes there is,” Chase responded, taking a deep breath. “I’ll hold them off long enough for you to get him out of here.”

“Why would you do that?” Dean was confused. He’d never met a demon who gave a shit about anything but itself.

“Because Castiel is a good angel. His heart’s always in the right place. And he’s my friend. Go, quickly,” Chase replied.

Dean took off down the hall, ignoring Cas’s quiet pleas and paused just at the end, watching as Chase was swallowed up by the crowd. He readjusted his grip on his angel and ran as fast as Heavenly possible.

 

Cas’s body hurt. Every time Dean moved, he’d have to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from crying out. When they’d left Chase, Cas was struggling despite the pain it had caused him. And that pain was a lot.

“Dean, go back!” Cas demanded from the hunter’s arms as he shoved open the door and got the Nephilim outside.

“No way,” Dean said firmly, putting Cas down, helping him stand heavily against a tree. Cas caught Dean looking him over. “You can barely stand.”

“He saved our lives,” Cas reasoned. “There’s no way I’m leaving him behind while we go home safe and sound.”

Dean sighed in frustration, seeing that there was no way he was going to win this fight. Cas had already made his decision. 

“At least bring me with you,” Dean said, folding his arms over his chest. “You can’t go in there alone and expect to walk out.”

Cas looked down as if he was really considering it. He shifted his gaze to Dean and frowned. “I know that,” he said slowly. “But I won’t bring you in there and risk you getting hurt because of me.”

Dean was about to protest when Cas just disappeared. As in, poof. Gone. Like he was never standing there at all. That was by far his least favorite thing Cas did. He always felt like the angel would stay gone.

“Cas!” he said. “Dammit,” he started angrily towards the building, swearing to finish Cas off himself if the demons didn’t.

 

Cas appeared where the fight had been. And he was impressed and worried all at the same time. Chase was in the center of the demons, at least two dozen, and the were constantly jumping on his back and kicking out at him. He would grab their shoulders and hurl them back into the mass, or he would kick them back twice as hard. He was doing pretty well for himself, but he couldn’t keep this up.

Chase had two cuts on his face, one above his eye, the other across his cheek. His left eye was slightly bruised and he was favoring his right leg when he fought. Cas shook his head. The demon was all over the place in this fight. 

He suddenly appeared next to Chase, startling all the demons enough to make them back up in shock. They saw it was Cas and lunged, but Cas was just quick enough. He latched his hand around Chase’s wrist and blinked out as fast as he had come. When they got back out in front of Dean, Cas felt sure he was going to pass out.

“Cas, are you okay?” Dean demanded.

Cas’s only response was to topple forward into Dean, who caught him easily, grinning. “Take that as a no?”

Cas shook his head as Dean helped him over to the tree he’d been leaning on before deciding to stupidly charge in there. He pressed his back to it, his head pounding. He felt like he was going to throw up.

“Is he alright?” he heard Chase ask. The demon limped their way, but was cut off sharply by Dean’s muscular form. 

“Yes, no thanks to you,” Dean spat at him, rage in his eyes. 

“What do you mean?’ Chase demanded, crossing his arms, trying to mask the pain. “I saved his life!”

“Yeah, and then he went back in for your demonic ass,” Dean snapped, taking a step forward so his chest brushed against Chase’s. The two of them were almost exactly the same height, but Dean was more built for sure.

“That’s not my fault!” Chase claimed.

“Whatever,” Dean turned his back on the demon as Cas pushed himself off of the tree. He was limping too, but his was much worse than Chase’s. “Cas, are you gonna be alright, or do I need to carry you?” It was only partially sarcastic.

Cas shook his head. “I’m fine, Dean,” he was secretly enjoying the hunter’s protective attitude towards him.

“Alright,” Dean said, seemingly comforted. “Now, let’s get the hell out of here. Sammy’s all alone right now.”

Cas nodded. “Wait a second,” he said calmly, walking up to Chase and taking a deep breath. He prayed this worked. He hesitantly reached out and laid a gentle, cautious hand on Chase’s shoulder. 

Slowly, the wounds on his face disappeared, and he straightened up. He took a careful step, looking pleased when the limp was gone. He looked at Cas, both surprised, and grateful at the same time.

“Thanks, Castiel,” he said before blinking out.

Cas smiled and turned to Dean, who had a look of… resentment in his eyes. He certainly didn’t approve of Cas’s new friend. Cas wasn’t sure why that made him feel almost smug. Like he was glad Dean seemed somewhat jealous.

“Let’s go get Sam,” Dean said, his voice a monotone as he got in the Impala. Cas joined him in the passenger seat.


	26. A Hug Masks the Heartache

Sam wasn’t any better. No, he was much worse. He was several shades paler, and his cheeks burned bright red. Dean winced just at the sigh of his little brother in a state like this. He came forward and put a hand on Sammy’s shoulder.

“And you’re saying you don’t know what this is?” he demanded, trying to keep his cool and not strangle the doctor right then and there.

“We have no idea,” the doctor responded, examining his clipboard. “Nothing seems to be helping him. There’s nothing more we can do. If he remains in this condition… well, it’s hard to say. We’re going to give him until tomorrow.”

“Then what?” Dean crossed his arms. “Are you saying he could die?”

“You should brace yourself for any possibility,” the doctor said grimly. Dean glared at the doctor as he bit down on his lip.

“Well, a lot of help you are,” Dean said, his voice filled with bitterness. 

Cas stood in the doorway, silent as ever. He’d been listening to the conversation, and he didn’t know what to do. Dean had been sitting with his brother as the doctor had spurted a jumble of medical terms at Dean, but Dean, as always, was more clever than he was given credit for. He knew what those useless words meant.

“I’m sorry,” the doctor said, and Cas knew for a fact that he was a lot less sorry than he said. ‘Sorry’ actually seemed like his automatic response to this. That’s how many relatives of the dying he’d dealt with.

Somehow, that wasn’t comforting. Cas pretended not to be concerned, pretending that he was sure everything would be all right, but he also knew that Dean could see right through that. He had never been a good liar.

“You are both welcome to stay the night, but I recommend you go home and get some rest. We’ll take care of him,” the doctor assured Dean.

Dean shot to his feet, immediately wanting to protest, but Cas intervened, stepping away from the doorframe and moving up behind the doctor.

“Thank you,” he said. “We’ll consider it.”

“You’re welcome,” the doctor nodded, checking his clipboard and giving Sammy one last head shake before he slipped out the door. There were your average hospital sounds beyond that door. 

Babies crying, mothers in labor screaming, older men cursing, machines whirring, polite voices greeting patients, the clack of wheelchairs moving down the hall, the beeps of heart monitors. All sounds that made Dean want to throw up.

“Come on, Dean,” Cas took Dean’s wrist lightly. “There’s no more we can do here tonight. Sam will be okay until morning.”

As soon as he finished, he wished he could take it back. Dean seemed to feel the same way, because he twisted away from Cas and shoved the angel backwards into the wall, furious as he’d been in a long time.

He twisted Cas’s shirt up in his hands, pinning Cas’s back to the wall. He was panting with anger and fear, and his eyes were glazed over, as if he wasn’t quite sure what he was doing. Cas hoped that was the case.

“Okay?” Dean echoed, exploding at Cas. “Okay? My fucking brother is dying, and you think he’ll be ‘okay’ until tomorrow?”

“Dean, Sam is not going to die,” Cas promised. “I swear to you I won’t let that happen. I’ll think of something.”

Dean shook his head, letting go of Cas as a wave of shame surged over him. He turned his back to the angel and dropped his head. He couldn’t hold back a tear. Then another as he choked on the lump in his throat. He couldn’t cry. Not in front of Cas. He had to be strong; he had to be brave and tough and everything Cas was.

The hunter’s shoulders were shaking with sobs he was so desperately trying to hold back. His eyes were closed in a weak attempt to keep tears in. Cas shook his head sadly. All he wanted was for Dean to be safe. Safe and happy. 

“I’m so sorry, Dean,” he said for the third time that week. 

Dean slowly turned, his jade green eyes glistening, making Cas’s heart jump in his chest. Even in his weaker moments, Dean Winchester was hands down the most attractive and powerful human being Cas knew.

Before Cas could regain control of his crazy emotions, his arms were around Dean’s broad shoulders, easing the hunter into a hug. To Cas’s pleasant surprise, Dean didn’t pull away. No, he did quite the opposite.

Dean tucked his arms into Cas’s chest and burrowed into the warmth of the angel’s shirt. He felt so safe in Cas’s arms. He never wanted to leave this spot. He knew that Cas would keep his promise and find a way to save Sam. Cas would always keep his promises. Dean trusted him enough to believe that.

“Let’s get back, Dean,” Cas said gently. “You need sleep.”

Dean nodded a fraction of an inch. It wasn't much, but Dean’s angel saw it. Dean’s angel saw everything Dean did. Because he protected him and watched over him.

Cas laced his hand with Dean’s, being a bit more touchy than usual. Thankfully, Dean either didn't notice or didn't care. Cas closed his eyes tightly before getting the two of them back to the bunker, where they would spend yet another night without Sam.

Cas went to Sam’s room immediately and laid down. He may not have needed sleep, but his entire body hurt, and he needed rest. The torture from Crowley’s demons hadn't helped his weakened state at all.

He wondered to himself where Chase had gone. Probably back to Morgan. He certainly hoped Crowley would leave the hybrid demon alone. 

Hours passed, and Cas lost track of time. He occupied himself with twiddling his thumbs and counting the cracks on the ceiling. None of which he wanted to know the history of. He was  just bored, so he let his mind wander.

At what Cas assumed was around three in the morning, Dean came in, his hair tousled and his eyes half-closed. Cas pursed his lips, trying not to smile at the state of the older Winchester. 

“Cas,” Dean said, his voice breaking from lack of use through the night. “I, uh… it’s hot in my room,” he eyed Sam’s small air conditioner pointedly. “I just wanted to know if I could… um, sleep in here?”

Cas smiled and started to get up. “Sure, Dean. I can leave-“

“No,” Dean said, a bit too quickly. “Um, you need to stay laying down. The bed’s plenty big enough for two.”

Cas nodded and held the covers up for the hunter to crawl in. His entire body went rigid with electricity as Dean slipped under the blanket next to him. He was so close. Almost pressed up tight against Cas.

Cas only smiled and closed his eyes, shocked when he had one of those dreams when he wasn’t asleep. He hated those, because most of them separated him from Dean, and he didn’t like it one bit.

He and Dean laid next to each other all night long, neither of them having any more bad dreams. Dean was… content.

Cas wasn’t sure what to say when he came out of his trance, his arms around Dean, and Dean snuggled into his chest. So he didn’t say anything.


	27. Waking Up In Paradise

“Cas,” Dean whispered in his sleep, but he wasn’t shaking or struggling or trying to get away. He was smiling.

Cas’s heart jumped in his chest at the realization that Dean was having a happy dream about him. He took a moment to let everything around them sink in. His body was pressed closely to Dean’s. Dean had his head buried in Cas’s chest, and sometime in the night, Cas had put his arms around the hunter. Their knees were touching, and Dean wasn’t having a nightmare. This was Cas’s version of a dream.

But the angel knew quite well he wasn't sleeping. He quickly closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep when Dean suddenly shifted. Cas wanted to see if Dean’s reaction would have been like his.

It was. He felt Dean jump a bit, heard his heartbeat quicken, but Cas held his breath and tried not to move. Dean knew angels didn’t sleep, but he wasn’t so sure if Nephilim could. Dean pulled back, and Cas immediately did something where angels “left” their bodies. He got a three-quarter perspective of the room and could see Dean perfectly.

Dean looked at Cas, inspecting to see if he was awake. When he realized he wasn’t, the hunter visibly relaxed. He laid back down, cuddling back into Cas’s chest and slowly wrapping his left arm around him. Cas immediately returned to his body, keeping his eyes shut. Hopefully, Dean wouldn't figure out he was wide awake.

Every time Dean’s callused fingers made contact with Cas’s skin, electricity shot through his veins. The spark was enough to make him jump, but it was also oddly pleasant. Dean traced his hand over the scars on the angel’s neck and shoulder. His black T-shirt, the one that Dean had given him, was torn and ripped and Cas hadn’t realized it was loose on him, but sometime in the night, it had fallen down to rest on his upper arm, exposing his shoulder.

Dean seemed positive Cas wasn’t awake, because he lightly rubbed his hand over the clavicle that was so dominant on Cas’s neck, but so hidden on Dean’s. The difference in their physiques was embarrassing. Here was this perfect, Olympian-looking man, and then there was skinny, no-muscles Cas. Cas had to hold back a grimace.

Dean pulled his hand back to him, snuggling ever closer to Cas, so their noses were nearly touching.

Cas made a choice just then, and opened his eyes, slowly, pretending he was just waking up. To his surprise, Dean didn’t shoot away from him. He just froze as if he wasn’t sure if he he should pretend to be asleep, turn away, make a move, or just get as far away as quickly as possible. But he did none of these things.

The hunter lay perfectly still, eyes widened slightly, so there was a thin circle of white all the way around the green iris. Cas didn’t move either, and their eyes were locked. Neither of them even dared to breathe, which wasn’t really a problem for Cas. 

“I,uh…” Dean said after a few minutes.

Cas was actually very satisfied to see the smooth talking hunter at such a loss for words. It was endearing, and now he actually had proof that Dean was human. He didn’t always know what to say, clearly. Not that Cas had any clue what he should say or do in this situation either, but Cas had plenty of other flaws.

Dean was, as of right now, an incredible, god-like human, all strong features and bright eyes, speechless because of a skinny, clumsy, not exactly smooth mostly-human like Cas.

The Nephilim looked into Dean’s eyes, waiting and hoping for a move. Neither of them made one, because both were so afraid of what would happen if they did. They were both so afraid of rejection, denial, punishment. 

They could have stayed that way for minutes or hours, Cas had lost track of time, gazing into the eyes that haunted his dreams in the best way possible. He wanted to know what this feeling was. He wanted to know why it felt like he was floating on a cloud rather than lying on a stiff old mattress.

But no great thing can last forever, as everyone knows. Dean and Cas were so close that they could feel each other’s breath, and they were both frozen. 

Suddenly, something crashed downstairs, sounding like a door being kicked in, and Dean shot to his feet so fast he was a blur. He ignored what had just happened, not wanting to know what came over him, and he bolted down the stairs. He ended up using the railing as a slide and drawing his knife as he landed perfectly on his feet.

Dean frowned as he stole a quick look in the direction he’d come. When he’d found himself laying next to Cas, he felt his heart start to pound, but in a good way. He’d hoped Cas was asleep so he could enjoy being that close to him.

The hunter shook his head, angry at himself. Why would he hope that? It wasn’t like Cas was anything more than Dean’s closest friend. Why would he want to be anyway? Cas was powerful and brave and frankly sexy as fuck. Dean was a guy and he was able to see that. Dean had actually never found another man even remotely good-looking. But Cas? Dean wasn’t afraid to admit that Cas was incredible even in the physical sense.

He heard another crash and returned his attention to the door.

Cas sighed as his moment with Dean sprouted wings and leaped out the window, giving him a taunting glance over its shoulder as it plummeted toward the ground, only to lift up and disappear into the distance at the last second. 

He hurried after the hunter. Dean was sneaking into the kitchen when Cas popped up next to him, making Dean jump almost a foot. He shook his head when he saw that it was just Cas. 

“Don’t do that,” he whispered. “You scared the shit out of me.”

Cas frowned. “I’m sorry, Dean. What are you looking for?”

“You can’t tell me you didn’t hear that,” Dean raised an eyebrow, pointing his knife toward the living room, where he was heading.

“No, I heard it,” Cas confirmed. 

Dean rolled his eyes. “Then what do you think I’m looking for?”

Before Cas could answer, something big and dark dropped down onto Dean’s shoulders and knocked him to the ground.

A demon. Cas sighed in frustration. Crowley had sent a demon after them already? They’d only just escaped. Either way, the thing had Dean on his back and the hunter had lost his knife when he’d hit the ground.

Cas immediately lunged at the demon, knocking it away from Dean. The two of them ended up wrestling on the ground, Cas trying to keep his own angel blade from penetrating that all-important life-giving vein in his neck.

Dean was still on the ground; Cas realized he’d been hurt, but he didn’t know how bad, nor what was wrong. He was on his own for now.

Cas glared up at the demon as he twisted the blade around in his hand so the handle was facing him. The demon seemed to realize it had made a fatal mistake, because it pulled the knife toward it before slamming it backwards. Cas winced as the handle slammed into his temple. 

He hissed in pain before yanking the blade out of the demon’s hand, pushing him backwards. The demon smirked and rushed forward, throwing Cas into the wall. The fresh wounds all over his back did not make that feel good.

Cas barely had time to wince before the demon charged him again. He lifted his blade just in time to shove it through the demon’s heart, watching as it smoked out. Cas groaned, letting himself sink to the ground, so he was leaning against the wall.


	28. "Bromance"

Cas’s vision went in an out of focus for a few moments as he clung to consciousness. He could not pass out. Not now. He gritted his teeth and refused to close his eyes, even though he could no longer see.

“Dean,” he muttered. 

“Cas,” the hunter replied, his voice weak. Cas felt a light hand on his shoulder, brushing against his neck. He was still losing consciousness. “Cas, what happened?”

Cas felt blood streaming down the side of his face, it slid down his lip and into the corner of his mouth, the metallic taste assaulting his tongue. “The knife handle…” he explained, knowing Dean would know what that meant.

Both of them were hurt, but Cas managed to get his vision cleared enough to see Dean kneeling in front of him, pretending nothing was wrong. 

The angel shook his head and looked Dean over, seeing nothing wrong at first. He took a second scan, still seeing absolutely nothing. Were his abilities failing again? He assumed they were because there was blood staining the front of Dean’s dark green T-shirt.

“Dean, you’re hurt-“ Cas murmured.

“I’m fine,” Dean said sternly, his voice pained despite his efforts to keep it steady. “Now, let’s get you somewhere comfortable.”

Cas didn’t struggle as Dean pulled him to his feet. He fell immediately back down and Dean sighed. Cas felt the older Winchester’s scowl as the angel sunk to the floor, his head throbbing and his body aching.

“This isn’t gonna work,” Dean sighed, slipping an arm under Cas’s thin shoulders and scooping him up, smirking a bit in spite of the obvious pain in caused him.

When Dean picked Cas up, the angel felt a warm, wet patch on his chest. Where he’d been wounded, obviously. Cas managed to pick a hand up and lay it on Dean’s chest, healing it almost immediately.

Dean audibly sighed. “Thanks, Cas,” he said softly. Sincerely.

“Dean, they’re going to come again,” Cas whispered, more than aware that he was shaking. Why was a mystery to him, but Dean obviously felt it too. Cas frowned. Dean must have thought he was so pathetic. 

“And we’ll kick their asses again,” Dean replied easily, laying Cas down on his bed. Cas was confused. Why was he in Dean’s room? When had Dean come in here? Was Cas really that out of it?

“No, Dean. We barely got lucky this time…” Cas trailed off, his breath stuttering.

“Ssh,” Dean said, sounding gentle. “Shut up and get some rest. We’ll figure this out once you’re healed soon.”

“What about Sam?” Cas winced as he finally felt the full effect of all the wounds he’d suffered since their first werewolf encounter. The bikers, the second werewolf, the torture, all of it. It was all hurting at once. Now because Cas hadn't allowed himself to feel it before now. But it was finally setting in.

Dean’s easy look faltered. “I’ll go to the hospital around twelve. That will have been twenty-four hours.”

Cas forced himself to keep his eyes open. “Dean?”

“Hm?” Dean stood over him.

“I’m sorry I can’t heal him. I’m sorry I’m not a real angel,” Cas was getting closer and closer to passing out. From pain and exhaustion and a lot of other things that would kill a regular person. Cas felt it like a poison in the heart. He was so sickeningly weak.

“Cas, don’t say that. You’re better than a dickhead angel,” Dean suddenly sat down on the edge of the bed, so the mattress dipped in, making Cas slide a bit closer to the hunter, so his hip was brushing against Dean’s back.

“I can’t do anything,” Cas protested weakly. “I’m basically human.”

“That’s not true,” Dean replied with a hint of frustration in his tone. “Humans are… bad. Humans cheat and lie and kill. You don’t do those things, Cas. You’re better than just being human, or just being an angel. Angels are dicks, and humans are just assholes.”

Cas reach out a hand and lightly gripped Dean’s upper arm. “Not all of them. You’re not,” he countered with an exhausted smile.

Dean rolled his eyes. “I can think of enough people to disagree with you.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I think you’re just as good as any angel. I may even think you’re much better,” Cas continued to struggle to keep his eyes open.

“Get some sleep, angel,” Dean said. “I’ll wake you up before I leave.”

Cas nodded and obediently let himself fade away to see nothing but pitch black. It was somehow peaceful.

 

Dean watched Cas sleep. He was so strong. Only now did he finally let all of his accumulated tortures and pain bother him, and only after Dean had convinced him that it was okay. Dean smiled as he waited until he was sure Cas was completely asleep. Then he lightly brushed his hand over Cas’s cheek, unable to keep his hands off any longer.

A few hours passed, and Cas was still out. Dean figured it was safe to get going. He’d told Cas he would wake him up, but the angel needed sleep. And a lot of it.

Dean went out to the Impala and started her up. The engine purred, and Dean couldn’t hold back a smile. This car was his Baby, as was obvious to anyone who’d known him longer than five minutes. 

As he went, he worried to himself. Over apparent things, like Sam, and over more hidden things, like the way his hand felt like it was melting every time his fingers made contact with Cas’s skin. Dean didn't know why he suddenly became so aware of Cas’s presence, so fascinated by the tiny and irrelevant things the angel did, but it was bothering the fuck out of him. He wanted answers.

The hunter drove to the hospital, only mildly surprised when it was the alway-chipper Nurse Elizabeth who greeted him at the front desk. By always chipper, he really meant quiet and awkward, but hey. She was still hot.

Dean went back to Sammy’s room to see if any new developments had been made in the helping Sam department.

 

Cas stepped back. He’d gone invisible and followed Dean ever since he’d woken up and saw the hunter getting ready to head to the hospital. Of course Cas had followed his friend. How could he not?

There was nothing new on Sam. He was in the exact same condition they’d left him in, and the doctors had even gone so far as to suggest giving up. That made Cas hiss in disbelief and outrage appear in Dean’s eyes.

Castiel made one of the stupidest decisions in his life. But it was a decision that he made for Dean, not for himself. 

The angel flew back to the bunker, quickly scribbling a message to Dean, smiling as he hurried out the door. He had a job to do, officially.

Cas’s powers were nearly gone. That much he knew. But he had to know why and he had to fix it. The only way he could do that was to go to someone who knew more about his own species than he did. But he couldn’t go to Metatron. He’d broken into Heaven once and wasn’t about to do it again.

So he’d have to break into a place he broke into often. Cas sighed, wincing when he thought about what Dean would say when he found out Cas had stupidly gone back to Crowley. Again. He imagined Dean’s reaction wouldn’t be good.

But it was the best thing for Dean and Sam. Cas knew that was true. At least, he felt like it was true.


	29. Pity From Hell

Even after what had occurred last time, Cas wasn’t afraid when he returned to the warehouse Crowley had chosen for a hideout. He stepped up to the door, calmly checking to see if it was unlocked; of course it wasn’t. Why would it be? Crowley was always so welcoming to guests.

Cas shuddered as he thought about what could happen upon going back in there. He was still weak, still pretty much useless, but if coming in here would help Dean and Sam, Cas would risk anything. He’d protect the Winchesters with his life. With more, if he had more to offer.

He took his heel and slammed it into the door, pleasantly surprised when it gave way. He’d tried that before and failed miserably. First time for everything, he supposed.

He went into the warehouse, working his way through dim, musty hallways lined with mattresses and tires, like a homemade race track. Cas was especially careful not to touch anything. He didn’t know if Nephilim could catch bacterial diseases, but he knew that if he could, this was the place to do it.

Cas felt an eerie presence when he walked, but he knew it wasn’t a demon or a ghost or even a human. Nothing was there, yet still he sensed something behind him. Whatever it was, it sent a chill up his spine.

He steeled himself against whatever was to happen to him as he pushed open the door to the room Crowley had called “the torture pit for jackasses.” Cas wasn’t sure where that nickname came from, but he was pretty sure the last word related more to him and anyone else Crowley may have tortured here than a donkey. 

Cas frowned when he stepped inside. The place was empty. No torture instruments, no cold metal table, no guys in cooking aprons and white coats to protect themselves from any blood that may splatter. No Crowley. The only thing that hinted at recent company was fresh blood stains on the wall. Cas realized nervously that it was his own blood.

“Crowley,” he said, projecting his voice to be heard. “Are you in here?”

There was a quiet and surprised response, the voice belonging to the one and only King of Hell himself. “Castiel? What are you doing here? I assumed you and Squirrel had the common sense to run fast and far when you escaped me.”

“Don’t try anything, Crowley,” Cas warned. “I’m here for a real deal. One we both honor. Will you hear me out this time?”

“I have nothing better to do,” Crowley came out of the shadows, looking bored. Cas’s anger spiked when he saw him. This guy had tried to kill Dean, and for that, Cas wanted to slit his throat.

Instead, Cas made his proposal. “I have three conditions in exchange for my full cooperation with whatever else you want me for. One, I want information regarding the loss of my power. Two, I want you to heal Sam Winchester. And three, I want you to leave Dean- and Sam- alone. For good. Does that sound like a deal?”

Crowley smiled as if Cas’s negotiations were the most amusing thing he’d ever seen. They probably were. Cas sucked at this kind of thing.

But to Cas’s surprise, Crowley nodded. “Alright, Cas. You should know that a deal with me isn’t like other deals, so I shouldn’t have to tell you that you can’t break any word you give me and vice versa.”

“Deal,” Cas held his hand out. He knew that a handshake wouldn’t make it official, he just wanted Crowley’s pulse to see if he was lying.

Crowley grinned, placing his hand in Cas’s. Cas quickly brushed a finger against Crowley’s wrist. The beat was slow and calm. Cas immediately pulled away. Crowley wasn’t lying. Which meant neither was Cas.

“First,” Cas said. “Information.”

“First,” Crowley corrected. “Put up your hands.”

Cas reluctantly did as he was told, allowing Crowley to put strange angel handcuffs around his wrists. Then he looked at the demon expectantly. “Now tell me what I need to know,” Cas said angrily.

“Very well. The Nephilim species is a strange one that I pride myself on knowing almost everything about. Except their anatomy. What makes them strong. That’s what I’m trying to figure out with you, Castiel. Anyway, humans and angels were not meant to mix. Not only would the offspring be too dangerous and powerful, but they would also be very unstable thanks to their inconsistent genetic make-up.”

Cas rolled his eyes. Crowley was acting like he knew everything, and Cas was standing over there completely clueless about what he was. “Go on,” he said impatiently.

“Relax, Castiel. By the time I finish speaking, you will know everything you ever thought you wanted to. Nephilim are very powerful once they learn how to control their Flaw.”

“Their Flaw?” Cas echoed, not liking the way Crowley had said the word. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Ah, right,” Crowley shook his head, looking rather amused. “I forget how ignorant you are. Well, a Flaw is whatever makes a Nephilim vulnerable and weak.”

Metatron had mentioned something like that. “But what is it?”

“Well, for each Nephilim, it’s different. For some, it’s power. For others, it’s fear. But for a select few, it’s a human thing. Such as money. Or in some cases, love,” Crowley eyed Cas knowingly at the last one.

“How do simple things like that make your powers fail or make you weak?” Cas said, wishing his hands weren’t cuffed so he could cross his arms.

“Your Flaw is a distraction. It is something so deep inside of you that you can’t focus. You can’t think of anything but whatever it is. Yours, I’m betting, is Dean Winchester,” Crowley smirked and leaned back against the wall.

“Dean?” Cas’s head snapped up.

“Yes, Dean. I’ve never seen you care so much about something.”

“What can I do about it?” Cas said, getting desperate upon hearing about Dean. He didn’t want to hear Crowley say the hunter’s name ever again.

“You can either cut yourself off from him forever, or you can learn to control it. The easiest way would be the first one,” Crowley said.

“How can I learn to control it?” Cas snapped, getting annoyed at Crowley for even hinting that he might not be able to see Dean ever again. The thought panicked him.  

“It’s quite simple,” Crowley said, dragging the conversation out. “You need to welcome him more. Spend every second of every day with him until your powers are working. You need to be with him at all costs. Never be away from him.”

“Guess that’s not a possibility anymore,” Cas said bitterly. 

Crowley looked pleased when he answered. “Not in the least.”

Cas shook his head sadly, thinking that it was so ironic that the one thing he wanted more than anything was the one thing he didn’t think he could have, but was the one thing he needed. Now he might never see Dean again.

“Alright, Castiel. It’s time to make sure there is no escaping for you. Other than the cuffs, you will be put under lock and key. And the first time you try to escape, Dean Winchester dies. And in case you’re wondering why that’s so terrible, well, I have news for you.”

“What is it now?” Cas glared at Crowley, rage boiling up inside him.

“Well, when a Nephilim’s Flaw is destroyed, so are they. But you won’t die. No, you don’t deserve that much. It will make you human. Completely human. And your heart will no longer work properly. All you will feel is the gravity of loss. And slowly, painfully, it will rip you apart from the inside. That’s the best part.”

“So I would die?” Cas looked at Crowley in confusion.

“Yes, but not for a long time. You’d have to live in that kind of unbearable pain for nearly a year before it finally let you escape.”

The look in Crowley’s eyes resembled pity. And that terrified him. Because if Crowley was feeling sorry for him, that was not a good sign.


	30. Only Human

Cas looked away from Crowley upon seeing pity in the demon’s eyes. Maybe it wasn’t true. Maybe Dean wasn’t his Flaw. 

But Cas knew he was. There was nothing in the world that Cas would choose over Dean. He wanted to be with him all day every day no matter what conditions. No matter how angry or afraid Dean was, Cas wanted to be there. 

“Okay, Crowley. Part one of the deal has been completed. Now you have to go help Sam,” Cas said pointedly.

Crowley nodded. “You completed your Part One and I completed mine. It’s time for you to complete Part Two of your deal. Then I will save Sam.”

“What are you talking about?” Cas didn’t recall any Part Two of the deal. Leave it to Crowley to fill a deal with hidden agendas.

“Well, I have your surrender. Now I need your compliance. So, if I let you go, and you run, I will send all of my best demons out after the Winchesters. Will you comply?” Crowley smiled, looking almost too polite.

“Yes,” Cas held his eyes down, not wanting to meet the demon’s gaze.

“Look at me and answer!” Crowley ordered, not looking so polite anymore.

Cas lifted his head and glared daggers at the King of Hell. “Yes,” he repeated, trying to keep his voice from wavering.

“Good. Then you stay here a moment, and I’ll be right back,” Crowley gave Cas a mocking little bow as he blinked out.

Cas was left alone in the room, on his knees with his hands cuffed behind his back. He knew that escape was far from impossible, but that Crowley would keep his word and murder Dean in front of Cas’s eyes. Cas couldn’t risk that.

 

Crowley sighed as he appeared where Squirrel and Moose were in the hospital. Moose looked terrible. Crowley grinned slyly. He was the most cunning devil he knew. He came into the room, striding as though he owned the place.

“Hello, boys,” Crowley said with a smirk.

Dean shot to his feet and stormed forward, looking ready for any fight. Crowley smiled when Squirrel seemed to realize he was there on business terms only, not for any kind of fight. Dean hesitated.

“What do you want, you son of a bitch?” Dean spat.

Crowley smiled politely. “I’m here to take Moose’s problems away,” he clarified unhelpfully. Dean looked like he was ready to lunge, but the hunter held back.

“What the fuck does that mean?” he folded his arms tightly over his chest. He waited for any moves Crowley planned to make.

“It means he’s dying,” Crowley nodded at Sam. “But I can fix that.”

“Why the hell should I believe you’d do that?” Dean snapped, losing his patience. He clenched his fists so hard his knuckles cracked.

“Because of your holy pet,” Crowley replied sarcastically. “We struck a deal. And my part is fixing Moose.”

“What’s his part?” Dean asked, dread building up in his heart and making him worry for his angel. It was clear that that’s who Crowley was talking about. “As in, what did you say to manipulate him this time?”

“He offered me the deal,” Crowley said it in a way that made Dean positive he was telling the truth and proud of it. “I just accepted.”

“Oh, God,” Dean lowered his face into his hand. “That idiot’s going to get himself killed.”

“Yes, he will. The deal was his surrender for my help. And of course, you must know how valuable the Nephilim species is. So, how could I possibly refuse that deal?”

Dean gritted his teeth. “You jackass,” he took a stiff step back.

“Move it, Squirrel,” Crowley said suddenly. “I don’t want to be here longer than I absolutely have to.”

Dean started to protest, but Crowley calmly shouldered him aside. He laid a hand on Sam’s forehead and smirked over his shoulder at Dean. There was a bright flash. The demon smirked as he snapped his fingers and muttered something under his breath. In seconds, he was gone.

 

Crowley returned to where he’d left Cas kneeling on the floor. The angel hadn’t moved even a fraction of an inch. When Crowley returned, the Nephilim slowly raised his eyes, his expression level, but pained.

“Is Sam alright?” Cas asked quietly.

“Moose will live,” Crowley said, and Cas was dismayed to see that he couldn’t conclude whether Crowley was lying or not.

“Alright. Now for Part Three,” Cas said slowly.

Crowley seemed to perk up from his boredom, brandishing Cas’s own angel blade at him. He took a few steps forward, a hellish glint in his eyes. He looked like a rabid dog. And that made Cas the animal-loving little boy who got too close.

“Ah, yes. The worst part of this little deal. I have your cooperation, and you have knowledge and the comfort that Dean’s brother will survive. Now I have to leave Moose and Squirrel to their pathetic lives. But in order for me to do that, Castiel, I need one more thing from you,” Crowley looked smug.

Cas immediately clamped his teeth over his bottom lip. “I don’t trust you, Crowley. What do you want?”

“It’s not exactly something you willingly give. I have to take it from you. But the less you struggle, the less it will hurt,” Crowley set the blade at Cas’s throat.

Realization surged into Cas’s mind, and Cas tried to back up, only to have his sore back collide with a concrete wall. He yelped, squeezing his eyes shut as the muscles in his back began to throb. 

“No,” he said. “That won’t work. I won’t be worth anything to you.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Crowley replied easily. “I will take your grace until I find someone with a purpose for either your grace, your body parts, or a living you. Whichever they want, they will have to pay the price.”

“Which is?” Cas snapped.

Crowley smiled. “The one thing they’d refuse to give up.”

And with that comforting last remark, he put a hand on Cas’s temple, pushing his head back so it was pressed tight against the wall. Cas tried to struggle, but Crowley was holding him back too tightly, and at the moment, Crowley was stronger.

“No,” Cas protested again as he felt the cold of the blade.

Crowley easily took the blade and put it to Cas’s throat, making a small sideways incision. Cas winced as he went stiff. The pain was bad, but the feeling of losing what gave him his power was worse.

Cas was afraid. He could feel it draining at him, and he was afraid. When the pain stopped and Crowley let him go, healing the cut, Cas fell to his hands and knees, trying to keep his eyes open. Cas realized at that point that he was entirely and without a doubt human.


	31. Hiding in the Dark

Crowley didn’t hesitate. As soon as Cas was human, the handcuffs were removed. Just to mock him. Just to remind him, taunt him, because there was no way to escape. He was weak and vulnerable and nothing like the humans he’d sacrificed so much for. Those two were strong and could fight. What did Cas have as a human? 

It wasn’t that Cas didn’t know how to fight. It was that Cas fought like an angel. With the ability to dodge and block and attack like an angel. Humans had very different strengths and techniques that Cas knew next to nothing about. 

“What are you doing, Crowley?” he growled as the demon offered him a hand to help him up.

“I’m simply reminding you that even without both hands tied behind your back, you’re useless,” Crowley responded heartlessly. “Now come on. I’ll show you to your room. It’s going to be far less welcoming than the last one.”

“The last one was welcoming?” Cas cocked an eyebrow at the King of Hell.

“Compared to this one?” Crowley had a cruel look in his eyes, and Cas’s hands began to shake. He wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t scared. He was terrified, because he knew something awful was going to happen to him, and he was totally helpless to stop it. “It was Heaven compared to Hell.”

Cas winced as Crowley dragged him to his feet. His entire body was still in pain, and losing his grace hadn’t helped. He was as human as he’d ever been, and weaker than ever. He was nothing right now. Not Nephilim, not angel, barely human.

Crowley forced Cas into a small cell, one that only had enough room for one person to lay down, and with their feet tucked up a bit. The ceiling was so low that Cas had to get down on his stomach to get inside, and the floor was lower than the floor outside the cell, so Cas nearly lost his footing when he landed. Down there, it was tall enough for him to stand, but not straight. He had to hunch a bit.

“Enjoy, Cas. We’ll make sure to add some things for your personal comfort when we get the chance,” and with that Crowley was gone.

Cas pressed himself into the corner, his knees pulled up to his chest. He buried his face in his folded arms and tried not to think. His entire body was shaking and trembling and he felt like such a coward. Why was he so afraid of this? He’d been through worse. Much worse, and he knew that Dean wouldn’t even blink about the situation. Why was Cas so pathetic and useless compared to the hunter?

Cas looked up, thinking of Dean, and he let himself fall into one of those dreamlike states, but instead of a nightmare, it was a memory.

 

Cas stood over Dean, his eyes blank and expressionless. He felt so much and nothing all at the same time. He drew back his blade and hit Dean again, blood streaming down the hunter’s face.

Cas was struggling against the control of Naomi. He couldn’t do this. To the angel who had taken over him, he spoke loud and clear, but on Earth, he said nothing. He only struck the hunter again. Cas realized while standing in front of Naomi what was happening. What he was doing. And he had to stop.

“I won’t hurt Dean,” he insisted. He didn’t know how to stop this.

“Yes, you will,” she said firmly. “You are.”

Cas winced as he drew back his hand and struck Dean yet again. Dean was pleading with him, begging him not to do this. Trying his very hardest to break Cas out of this, blood splattering his face.

“Cas,” Dean sputtered. “Please.”

It took Cas a moment to really understand what the hunter was saying. He didn’t understand because he was in and out of his own mind, torn between Heaven and Earth. And it hurt so much.

“We’re family,” Dean said, his voice weak. Cas’s heart broke right then and there. He looked down at Dean, trying to keep his expression level.

Cas swallowed as his eyes began to burn. He felt like he could cry at that point. But he didn’t. Because angels didn’t cry. Because he had orders, and Dean didn’t matter enough to him to cry. Because Heaven needed him.

Dean went on relentlessly. “We need you,” he managed, pain and sorrow in his eyes. “I need you,” he corrected himself.

Cas’s mind screamed for him to stop, and before he knew what was happening, his blade was on the ground and he was gently picking the tablet up. He looked back to the Winchester. He finally knew what he’d done.

“Cas, please,” Dean said breathlessly.

Cas slowly reached out toward Dean’s face, his eyes still emotionless and his jaw still set. He didn’t meet the hunter’s gaze.

“Cas,” Dean said, sounding nearly desperate. “Don’t.”

Cas laid a hand on Dean’s cheek and healed the wounds he’d inflicted with the hilt of his blade. Looking down at himself, he shook his head.

“I’m so sorry, Dean,” he said. He was truly a monster, angel or not. He didn’t deserve to live. He looked at his friend with grief in his eyes.

 

Cas shook his head to clear away the flashback. He felt his eyes burning, and lightly touched his finger to one. It was wet just below the eye itself. He was crying. Crying like a stupid, cowardly little human. Just what he was.

The man frowned as he wiped the salty liquid from his eyes. Tears were awful. No wonder humans refrained from using them. 

“Damn,” he whispered, a phrase Dean used often when he found himself in this kind of place. Thinking of Dean made his heartache worse.

Cas hugged his knees, rocking back and forth and trying to make the pain in his chest go away. But it didn’t. He thought about what they planned for him this time. Without his grace, he was human. Crowley knew that. So what did Crowley want with a human?

He tried to block out his thoughts. All they did was make the whole thing worse. He wished he could have a good flashback of his times with Dean. Those at least made him feel a little better. The memories where he and Dean were sneaking in somewhere they shouldn’t be, Dean looking like a rebellious teenager all the while.

Cas frowned to himself as he looked around the small cell. This so far wasn’t hell. Sure, being alone this much would suck after a while, but for now, all Cas had to worry him and cause him pain was his own mind.

He thought about the time Dean had kicked him out. He’d understood. But being on his own wasn’t easy. He was, as Dean had said, a baby in a trench coat without his powers.

Cas looked down at himself. So that’s why he’d been so cold lately. He’d left his coat back at the bunker and was still wearing Dean’s torn black shirt. He smiled to himself, grateful for even having this with him. 

He pulled the collar of the shirt up over his mouth and breathed in deeply. It smelled so much of Dean. It smelled like blood, cheap cologne, and above all, Dean Winchester. He always smelled so nice to Cas. 

This was the closest he’d get to seeing Dean again, and honestly, he could accept it. He hugged himself, mostly his torso, where the shirt was the least torn, and smiled again. If he couldn’t have the hunter, having something that so strongly reminded him of the hunter would at least ease the pain.


	32. The Nightmare's Just Begun

Dean sighed to himself after Crowley was gone. Then he looked at his little brother, Sam being a top priority.

He nearly sobbed with relief and couldn’t stop himself from grinning. “Sammy,” he said slowly, happy to see his eyes open.

Sam was still covered in sweat, but his skin tone had darkened several shades and he had opened his eyes. He suddenly sat up, looking down at himself in disgust. He probably felt terrible. Dean didn’t care.

He threw himself into a hug. His brother was alright, and he wasn’t dying. Dean continued to smile until he remembered exactly why Sam was better.

“Cas,” he realized frantically.

Sam shook his head, seemingly disoriented. “What happened?” he asked, confused. Dean smiled and slung an arm around his little brother.

“You threw up more than I ever saw you put in your scrawny body. Then Cas made a deal with Crowley and you magically got better. But now I need to find that stupid-ass angel,” Dean replied, and Sam picked up on what had happened right away. Thataboy, Sammy. You little Harvard graduate.

“So let’s go find him,” Sam replied, pushing himself into a sitting position. Dean was amazed that nothing seemed to be wrong with him at all anymore. 

“You’re not going anywhere,” Dean replied. “Except home. I’ll find Cas myself.”

“No way, Dean,” Sam replied. “I’m fine now, and you and I are going to find Cas as soon as we check the hell out of this place.”

Dean smiled. His brother was a lot like him, he realized. In many ways, Sam was just as stubborn and irritable as Dean.

“Alright,” he agreed with a light smile.

“Now, where did Cas go, exactly?” Sam managed to get up, looking just as healthy as he typically did.

“Before anything,” Dean put a hand on his brother’s shoulder, trying to be nice. “You need a fucking shower.”

Sam smiled at that, and Dean looked around. There was a nice window they could sneak out of. But they’d have to be quick about it. If the doctors saw Sam making a break for it, they’d know something was up. Plus they wouldn’t just let him leave after a near-death experience. So they’d need a better plan than just walking out of there.

Dean easily lifted the latch on the window, and he and his little brother slipped out to get in the car and get the hell out of there. After Sammy was back in fighting condition, Dean had a certain Nephilim he needed to save.

Dean hopped in the driver’s seat of the Impala and they took off. They got to the bunker quickly, and Sam took the fastest shower of his life, returning to Dean in blue jeans and a plaid shirt, buttoned up almost the whole way, except for one button. Dean smirked. What a nerd. he adjusted the collar of his own light denim jacket before turning toward the door.

“Let’s get our angel back,” Dean said with a grin.

“Nothing like busting into a demon’s hideout in the morning,” Sam agreed as he headed back out with his brother.

The two of them got in the Impala and took off, knowing that if they didn’t find Cas soon, it would mean real trouble for the angel.

 

Cas frowned when Crowley returned. Crowley always, always came to Cas alone. He never had anyone with him. Never. But now, there was someone dressed in black with a black mask covering their face.

“What is this?” Cas demanded, easily climbing to his feet, any earlier sorrow lifted from his heart and replaced by rage.

“A good friend of yours, apparently,” Crowley said. “He’ll be bunking with you for exactly twenty-four hours.”

“What are you talking about?” Cas spat at him. He wasn’t in the mood.

“Just a little punishment for being a traitor. His boyfriend is gonna think he’s dead for exactly twenty-four hours, as I said,” and Crowley shoved the man in black into the tiny cell so he and Cas were close to each other.

Cas had a feeling he knew who it was without approaching him. He gave Crowley a small snarl as the King of Hell sauntered away. He wanted so badly to fight back, but he’d made a deal, and he had to stick to it.

Instead of trying anything, Cas approached his new roommate, lightly tugging the mask up and over Chase’s head. He lightly tossed the black ski-like mask away. The half-demon looked up at him in surprise, and Cas tried to smile to let him know he wasn’t going to hurt him or make a move.

“Chase?” he said, confused. “What’s going on?”

“I’m a little tied up right now,” Chase said sarcastically, rattling the demonic handcuffs around his wrists. Cas hadn’t noticed them because of all the black he was wearing. 

Cas smiled and helped him trick them open. “That was easy enough. Now what exactly happened? Where’s Morgan?”

“As punishment for helping you, Crowley is keeping me away from Morgan and telling him I’m dead. He’s probably panicking right now, and that’s not good for him, and he’s going to be freaking out all night and day until Crowley lets me go, and-“ Chase’s voice was growing more and more frantic.

“Chase, it’s going to be alright,” Cas lied. 

Chase shook his head. He obviously didn’t believe Cas for even one second. Cas couldn’t blame him, and he felt 100 percent guilty about the whole thing, and he wanted to help Chase in any way he could. But he was human. He couldn’t do anything.

Chase began to hug himself, shaking his head. “God damn it,” he whispered. “I knew that saving you was stupid.”

“You regret it?” Cas was genuinely hurt. But Chase made it quite clear that those words meant nothing compared to what he was really feeling.

“If Morgan gets hurt?” Chase laughed, his tone flat and humorless. “I’ll make you regret it. And I won’t think twice.”

Cas nodded slowly. “And if he doesn’t? Are we still friends?”

“Sorry, Castiel. But demons and angels just don’t mix,” Chase started to turn his back on Cas, who spoke up quickly.

“I’m not an angel anymore. Not even a little bit,” he protested, coming forward and placing a hand on Chase’s shoulder. He wanted him to know that he’d finally come to terms with what he was and what he would have to do.

“What are you talking about?” Chase shot him a suspicious look.

“He took my grace,” Cas said, and Chase’s fearful expression darkened to one of understanding and anger. “I’m human.”

Chase shook his head and looked away. He looked like he pitied Cas with everything he had in him, but also like he pitied himself. Cas knew that Crowley wouldn’t let anything happen to Morgan. Not unless Chase was there to witness it. But he had to know if he could still count on the demon.

“Chase,” he repeated. “If Morgan is perfectly unscathed after this whole thing, are we still friends?”

Chase hesitated for less than a second. “If you’re asking whether I’ll still keep your feathery ass out of trouble, hell yeah, we’ll still be friends.”

Cas smiled and put a hand out for the demon, who shook it firmly, smirking a bit.


	33. Separated

Dean wasn’t sure which way to turn. The only place he’d thought of was empty. Sammy was perfectly fine, but Dean? He was getting weaker, and something told him it had to do with whatever Crowley was doing to Cas. Dean had seldomly felt so disconnected from his angel, and it was fucking irritating.

He glanced at Sam, who seemed relatively at ease. He wasn’t sure why that bothered him so. Maybe because he was freaking out.

Suddenly, Sam turned to him. “Dean? You okay?”

Dean shook his head before laughing. The sheer ridiculousness of Sam’s question made him snicker in itself. “No,” he laughed again. 

“Dean?” Sam repeated, looking concerned.

“Nah, Sammy. I’m not okay at all,” he replied, keeping a sly smirk on his face. “And I won’t be okay until we find Cas. So don’t ask me again unless you find out a way to get to Hell, which is where I’m positive Crowley has him.”

Sam shook his head, looking down. He felt so much better than he had, so the slight nausea now was nothing to him. He could see how much Cas’s absence had impacted his big brother, and he was silently cursing Cas for getting himself taken.

They went back to the bunker, and Dean grabbed a beer before collapsing onto the couch. He looked miserable. Sam sighed and thought about it. They’d gotten into Hell before. It couldn’t be as hard as Dean was making it out to be.

He knew someone who could help them. The coyote from last time Sam had snuck into Hell. If only he remembered the guy’s name. Sam knew how to summon more people exactly like him though. They could do it.

Sam went out to Dean and proposed his idea.

 

“Tell me about how you met,” Cas said from across the small space. He and Chase were sitting adjacent to each other, and they’d been talking for a while. Cas, as guilty as he felt to admit it, was happy Chase was here. He needed someone to talk to, and so far, Crowley had left them alone for three hours.

“Well, I was out hunting. As always. Something demons do to pass the time. I was tracking a girl coming home from high school. Nothing big. Nothing major. Just good old-fashioned scaring the shit out of people.”

Cas cuddled back into the wall, listening intently. He was still afraid, but somehow, being with Chase had eased his conscience.

“I was pretending to be the lowest scum out there. Scaring the living daylights out of her,” Chase chuckled with memory as he continued. “Then all of a sudden, this skinny little blond thing darted out of nowhere and slid in between us. I quick and fast changed my tune, turning into the intimidating hybrid I was, flashing jet black eyes at him. You know what he said to me?”

Cas smiled slightly. “No clue.”

“He said, and his exact words, ‘Why don’t you go back to Hell you asshole?’ Poor little guy never realized how spot-on he was. I tried to scare him. To make him run and cry and beg for mercy. But he never did. And soon, I just gave up. Our relationship came from that,” Chase seemed to enjoy the story. “What about you, Castiel? How did you meet the hunter with the wise cracks and sour attitude?”

Cas winced at the thought of the man he would probably never see again. “Dean stabbed me in the chest,” he answered.

Chase frowned, then laughed. “Love works in mysterious ways, doesn’t it, angel?”

Cas sighed. He smiled at remembering his first encounter- first real encounter- with Dean Winchester. Little did he know then that it would turn out to be the greatest day of his entire life. He looked down.

“Well, you and Dean,” Chase began. “Do you love him?”

Cas looked away from the demon, wishing he didn’t have to answer. “More than a brother,” Cas decided.

“That’s not what I meant,” Chase scolded.

Cas ducked his head even further. “I know. And the real answer is that it doesn’t matter if I do. Men and men- that’s a sin. I couldn’t. And Dean is far from homosexual. He flirts with every female out there, and I’ve never seen him flirt with a man.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. Just because he’s not outwardly gay doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to be. Have you never heard the phrase ‘in the closet’?”

At Cas’s head shake, Chase sighed deeply.

“It means he’s keeping his feelings a secret. Besides, maybe he’s afraid. Just like you are. That you’ll get hurt if he tells you the truth. I swear Castiel, you don’t know anything about love,” Chase smirked.

The comment wasn’t meant to hurt. Cas knew the demon was only teasing. But it still stung quite a bit.

“Sorry,” Chase repented.

Cas shook his head for the millionth time. “It’s alright. It’s true. Most angels don’t know the first thing about love.”

Chase smirked, trying to make light of the whole situation. “Well, you know what it feels like, at least. That’s a start.”

Cas smiled in spite of himself. He looked at the hybrid, wondering to himself whether they could actually stay friends. They were just so polar opposite, and Dean seemed to hate the guy. Plus, Cas probably was going to be stuck here a while. Cas just didn’t see anything beyond more torture and a few experiments. Chances were that Crowley was going to keep his promise and ruin any chance he had for freedom.

Cas hesitantly nodded. “I suppose it is a start. How long has it been, do you think? Since Crowley locked you in here.”

“Not twenty-four hours,” Chase muttered, frowning at the heavy sadness that fell over him when he thought about Morgan. His lover was probably panicking and nearly having a heart attack because of Chase’s disappearance. That knowledge scared poor Chase to death. He knew that Morgan was pretty gullible. If they convinced him of Chase’s death… Chase shuddered, not wanting to think about it.

Cas sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault you’re here.”

Chase looked startled by Cas’s apology. “It’s not your fault. I chose to help you. And honestly, I’d choose it again.”

Cas chuckled lightly. “Is that so?”

Chase nodded firmly. “Yeah, it is. I’ve made a lot of mistakes. This one wasn’t really my idea to make.”

Cas tilted his head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Morgan told me to help you. I called him when I was on break to tell him I’d be home a little early. That’s when I saw you. I told him that there was a fight at the mini-mart. And I told him that some scrawny little punk was getting his ass kicked. Morgan insisted that I save you. So I did,” he explained.

Cas looked at him. He was a little surprised that Morgan had made Chase help him when neither of the couple really even knew who Cas was.


	34. To Hell and Back

That stupid coyote was late. They’d arranged to meet in this shitty back alley where he’d take them to Hell. But of course, the guy didn’t show up when he said he would, which was probably why Dean felt the urge to maim him as soon as he did show up.

He took a moment to scan the alleyway where they’d told the coyote to meet them. The concrete glistened in places, as if it had recently experienced a storm. The two dumpsters on either side of the Winchesters were huge and overflowing with maggots and rotting food, and there was an air conditioner a few stories above them, dripping a disgusting liquid all over the ground below it.

Dean shuddered. “Sammy, I gotta say. I’d feel a hell of a lot better if you’d back out and go home.”

Sam gave Dean a look that said, ‘Are you kidding?’ Out loud, he said. “No way, Dean. You know it’s not that easy to get rid of me.”

Dean shook his head and sighed, allowing himself a light smile. “I know, little brother. You got the same blood as me, that’s for sure.”

“Dean and Samuel Winchester?” a voice asked from behind them. Both Dean and Sam went rigid before turning to face their intruder.

Dean turned slowly, assuming a defensive stance in case a fight was necessary. He was proud when Sammy did the same. His brother had certainly learned well. He took a step forward, so he was a bit ahead of Sam.

“You the one we’re hitchhiking off of?” Dean said slowly, straightening up from his hostile position. He assumed this was their ride.

Sam didn’t seem so trusting. His shoulders formed two perfect right angles and his jaw was clenched as if he was trying not to fire off an insult. His hands were shaking, and he made brief eye contact with Dean, who clearly noticed the shaking. Sam crossed his arms tightly in response, making Dean tilt his head in confusion.

The guy, a younger male, tattooed from head to toe with flames, looking more like a satanist than a ferry between worlds. His blond hair was shaved so that it was nothing more than a fine layer of fuzz, and he wore a pair of dark sunglasses that hid his eyes from view. Dean wanted to fight him.

“That would be me, yes,” his voice was gruff, and he sounded like a pro-wrestler when he spoke. His words were slurred and his s sounds formed something that more resembled the th sound. Something Dean was guilty of but would never admit.

“Well, then. Sammy, looks like our ticket to Hell has arrived,” Dean tried to offer his brother a smile, but they were going to Purgatory. Dean hated Purgatory.

Sam gave Dean a nod, trying to calm him down. Sam was smart. He could sense when something was scaring the hell out of Dean, and this trip was one of those things. Dean had already been to Hell and to Purgatory, and to be honest, he didn’t look so great upon getting out of either. He didn’t have good memories of either place.

They closed their eyes and before either of the brothers could account for what was going on, they felt like they were suspended somewhere between time and space itself. Sam was the first to get his eyes back open when they were finally back on solid ground. The younger hunter looked around, seeing Purgatory for only the second time.

Everything was gray. If it wasn’t gray, it was black. If it wasn’t black, it was dull brown. If it wasn’t any of the above, it was blood red. Purgatory was just as bad as Hell in some ways. Just as much suffering and pain, slightly more adventure and thrill. Sam honestly couldn’t tell the difference between a year in Purgatory and a day in Hell.

“Alright. The two of you continue alone. I’ll be waiting here when you get back. Twenty-four hours is your limit. You’d best not waste that time,” the Hell ferry said. 

Dean nodded as he stepped forward. “Gotcha,” he responded calmly. The only thing on his mind was getting to Cas. If something had happened to that idiot… Dean didn’t even want to think about it. He’d lost so many people already. He couldn’t bear to lose his best friend on top of them all.

“Come on, Sammy,” Dean said as he took off. He and Sam ran in perfect sync with one another, their long-legged strides getting them where they needed to go quickly and efficiently, just the way Dean liked his missions.

Sam knew where the portal was, and he led Dean right to it. They paused before moving the rocks, and Sam turned to his older brother.

“You sure about this, Dean? I mean, we’re going to Hell,” Sam winced with his words, as if he’d only just realized they were true.

Dean looked at him with an eyebrow raised in disbelief. “It’s Cas, Sam. Why in God’s name would I not be sure about this? We gotta help him. It’s not like I really get a choice in the matter here.”

Sam hesitated. “I know that, Dean. But would Cas really want you to risk your life in order to get him out?”

“Did I ever want him to risk his life to help me?” Dean challenged. “No. He just did it because he was a Goddamn angel and angels are supposed to be selfless. Well, now he’s not completely an angel and I have a favor to return. You can wait with the coyote if you want.”

Sam shook his head adamantly. “That’s not what I meant, Dean. And you know it.”

Dean rolled his eyes and took nervous hold of his brother’s wrist. The two of them exchanged a nervous look and stepped into Hell together. Let the games begin, Dean thought to himself as they started a slow run.

 

Cas watched as Crowley yanked Chase up and out of the cell. Crowley had left them alone for twenty-four hours, and it was safe to say they knew next to everything about each other. What else could they talk about?

“Alright, gayboy,” Crowley gripped Chase’s upper arm as hard as he could, making Chase grimace slightly. “You get to go home and tell your homosexual pet that you’re not dead. Assuming he didn’t have a panic attack and die.”

Chase’s green eyes widened slightly as Crowley smiled politely and laid a hand on the hybrid’s shoulder. Cas almost protested when Chase slowly faded away. Crowley must have sent him somewhere. Hopefully, he sent him home, but Cas knew better than to get such foolish hopes too high.

Cas looked up at Crowley. “Guess that leaves just you and me.”

Crowley smiled, straightening his tie calmly. “Yes, Castiel, it does. Why? Do you have a problem with just you and me?”

Cas stood, folding his arms, still slightly amazed that Crowley had left him unbound. But it was true that Cas was useless as a human. A fact he’d come to accept over the last day. He just wanted to get out of here.

“Yeah, actually, I do,” Cas said pointedly. And he did. Crowley was hands down the most annoying person Cas had ever met.

Crowley chuckled and opened the door, grabbing Cas’s arm and pulling him up out of the cell. Cas’s poor back grinded against the top of the tiny entrance to the cell, tearing open old wounds and creating a few new ones. He was forced to his knees beside Crowley.

Crowley grinned and clipped a pair of cuffs around Cas’s raw wrists. “Let’s begin.”

It was at that point that both of the Winchesters barged in, each one brandishing a gleaming silver blade and a fierce scowl.


	35. The Human Factor

Cas’s head jerked up in shock at the entrance of Dean and Sam. The latter of the two looked as healthy as ever, bright-eyed and alert. Dean, however, looked slow and down and like he wasn’t sure what his next move should be. Seeing the older Winchester sparked something in the core of Cas’s heart.

He remembered just then that he was human. As human as Dean. He remembered that he couldn’t just grab the Winchesters and fly them out. Most importantly, he remembered that he couldn’t protect them.

“What are you doing here?” he hissed, earning an elbow to the spine from Crowley.

Cas held in a yelp as he dropped to his hands and knees, weaker than he’d been in quite a while. Dean sounded outraged when he spoke up.

“Cas!” he growled. “Dammit, you son of a bitch. Let him go.”

Crowley merely chuckled, grabbing Cas by the back of his shirt and hauling him to his feet, being as rough as he could when he saw that it was getting on Dean’s nerves. The hunter looked ready to lunge.

“You forget, Dean. I am not the one who forced Castiel to be here. That was a choice he made of his own accord. He made a deal. I agreed to that deal. So your presence here is both pointless and annoying,” Crowley smirked, pushing Cas to the side. Hurting him. Just because he could. And all Dean could do was watch.

“He doesn’t get to make that choice,” Dean snarled.

Crowley chuckled again. “He doesn’t? Oh, now you’re playing My Angel’s Keeper, is that it? Ready to be his Goddamn hero even when it’s clear he doesn’t want you to be. I never thought you Winchesters could sink any lower.”

Sam intervened. “What will it take for you to let him go, Crowley?”

Cas was silent during this whole thing, not because Crowley would hurt him if he spoke up or tried to resist, but because Crowley would go straight for them. Cas had to protect the Winchesters. They were his family.

“A good bargain. Or a mighty good show. Either way, you Winchesters aren’t going to be able to come up with something as valuable as a Nephilim. You don’t seem to understand that all of the blood in Castiel’s veins is worth more than an entire empire. Castiel has more power than you could ever believe.”

“But he’s human now,” Dean spoke up. And it wasn’t a question. Cas wondered to himself how the hunter knew.

“Got that right,” Crowley chuckled. “He’s just as human as you two imbeciles.”

Sam tucked a strand of stray hair behind his ear, looking just as irritated over this whole situation as his brother. “How? What did you do?”

Dean laid a hand on his heart as if he felt the absence of Cas’s grace there. “He took his grace away.”

Crowley smiled politely. “It’s true, Dean. Now if the two of you would politely leave, Castiel and I have some very important experiments to run,” he grabbed Cas by the shoulder, squeezing, as if waiting for Cas to speak up.

Dean snarled again, an animalistic sound in the back of his throat. He lunged forward and attempted to bury his blade in Crowley’s non-existent heart.

The King of Hell sidestepped, and Dean tumbled forward, landing directly on Cas, who landed hard on his sore back. Cas tried not to cry out, but failed. Dean was on his hands and knees over top of Cas, panting slightly. He looked down at the Nephilim with apologetic eyes. Cas shook his head, trying to tell him it was okay.

Meanwhile, Sam had taken advantage of Crowley’s distraction and attacked. He now was wrestling Crowley, both making an attempt to get the angel blade from the demon. Cas knew that it was only a matter of time before someone got hurt, maybe even killed. But he was an inexperienced human. What could he do?

Dean was already up when Cas heard a sickening snap. He almost threw up in his mouth when he saw what had happened. Sam’s arm was bent backwards at a 200º degree angle, and there was white trying to puncture through the skin. Blood seeped onto the white of his blue and white plaid shirt.

Cas had to look away when Sam screamed through clenched teeth. He looked back up as Crowley easily brought his knee up into Dean’s gut, downing both the Winchesters. He got his angel blade ready to tear into Sam’s throat when Dean sprang up like a cat.

The older Winchester kicked Crowley down and got on top of him. Of course, the King of Hell was stronger than most gave him credit for, and he flipped Dean off of him without much difficulty. Dean slammed hard into the wall before hitting the ground and laying still.

It was only when Crowley began to creep towards Dean that Cas jumped into action. He leaped up and jumped on Crowley. Crowley looked ready to laugh at Cas’s misplaced blows and pathetic attempts to gain control of the fight.

Crowley grabbed Cas by the throat and squeezed so hard Cas wondered how his throat wasn’t collapsing. When the demon let go and turned to Dean, Cas made yet another weak attempt to get Crowley’s attention off the wounded hunters.

Crowley looked more annoyed with Cas than anything. He seized Cas’s shoulder, then grabbed his wrist. He twisted Cas’s arm behind his back and shoved him up against the wall. Cas gritted his teeth. He would not go down that easily.

Cas spun in Crowley’s grip and delivered a sharp kick to the stomach before jumping up and attempting to bring an arm down on Crowley’s skull to at least try to knock him out for even a little bit. Of course, that plan was a complete failure. 

Crowley yanked Cas close to him, close enough so that he could do some serious damage. He drew back his blade and stabbed Cas in the shoulder. Cas cried out in pain, but it wasn’t nearly as painful as it would have been had Cas been in possession of his grace. Angel blades were meant to hurt angels and demons, not humans. But they still hurt like nobody’s business.

“Crowley, stop,” Cas breathed. “Send them home. Take me back to the cell. Just stop.”

Crowley laughed at Cas’s pathetic effort to protect his friends, then made a move that Cas would be feeling for weeks, angel or not. He brought a knee up into Cas’s liver, making the Nephilim double over in pain.

Crowley took that opportunity to make what could have been the final motion had it been executed more carefully. He drove his knee into Cas’s chest, then kicked him as hard as he could. Coming from a demon, especially one as strong as Crowley, it was a blow with bone-crunching force.

Cas barely had time to wince as he slammed into the concrete wall. Before he knew what was going on, Crowley waved his hand and brought the angel down. Then he began to approach his prize.

Suddenly, Dean was there. Kneeling in front of Cas, almost beside him, quickly pulling the partially conscious man into his arms. He had to protect Cas now. Cas had done it so often for him. Dean had to prove that he could do the same.

“No!” Dean managed. “I-I have a deal.”

Sam was on the ground, clutching his mangled arm, groaning in pain and trying to tell his brother not to do whatever he planned to do.

“You let Cas go in exchange for my soul,” Dean took a hesitant move forward, Cas still tightly locked in his arms.

“Dean, no,” Cas and Sam protested together. Both of them sounded weak.

“Are you sure you wanna make that offer, Winchester?” Crowley grinned as though Dean had done exactly what he wanted.

“Cas’s freedom and grace for my soul,” Dean repeated. “Do we have a deal?”


	36. More Deals and More Feels (...sorry)

“Dean, don’t,” Cas pleaded from where his head rested against Dean’s shoulder. “Please don’t do that.”

Dean silenced him by placing an index finger over his lips, lightly. So gently and carefully, making sure Cas was safe. The move was so unexpected that Cas shut up without hesitation, desperately clinging to the older Winchester.

He couldn’t let Dean go through with this. He knew he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He’d do something. He wasn’t sure what, but he would do something.

“Losing a Nephilim for the soul of the person I hate most…” Crowley seemed to be considering that. “Just the pride of ultimately ruining your life here in Hell… It’s a very tempting thought. But is it more tempting than the blood of the angel you’re trying so desperately to protect. Either way, I win.”

“Yeah, and either way, we lose,” Dean confirmed with a spiteful look. “Now take the deal or don’t. Make it easy or make it hard. We’ll still kill you.”

“I still don’t think you understand what you’re asking me to give up. Nephilim are by far the most powerful known species on Earth. However, there is one thing more valuable to me than Castiel. And that is my pride. I may just have to take you up on your deal, Winchester,” Crowley smirked, and he was obviously thinking of all the hell he could cause Dean once in possession of his soul.

“Dean, please,” Cas groaned, making a pathetic attempt to sit up. “Reconsider. You don’t realize what you’re doing.”

“Actually, for the first time in a long time, I do,” Dean gently laid Cas back against the wall and limped forward to meet Crowley. “Do we have a deal?”

Crowley smiled, loving the fact that he was causing Dean pain. “Your soul is worth quite a bit to me, Dean. But Castiel is worth more. No deal.”

“You fucking bastard!” Dean lunged forward, but Crowley caught his attack and shoved him backwards without much difficulty. He gave Dean a smug look, and Cas realized for the first time that Crowley loved power more than anything. And he held an unmeasurable amount of power over Sam, Dean, and Cas right now.

“Sorry, Dean. But a Nephilim is worth more than you could ever imagine. Except for a more rare cross of an angel and a demon. You find me one of those, and I’ll give you Castiel and protection for life. Your soul, however much personal value it holds to me, is nothing compared to Castiel’s blood,” Crowley crossed his arms.

Dean gritted his teeth, and he probably would have gotten himself killed right then and there had the little brother not come to the rescue.

“Crowley,” Sam groaned from where he was sprawled on the ground.

“Moose requests an audience,” Crowley turned his back on Dean, but not before using his foot to sweep Dean’s legs out from under him.

The older Winchester held back a groan as he landed hard on his back next to Cas. Cas managed to drag himself over to Dean and lay a hand on his friend’s shoulder. They both craned their necks to see what Sam was up to.

“He’s not a Nephilim, you know,” Sam coughed and spat blood.

“What?” Crowley glared at Sam. “Do I want to know what in the name of Hell you’re talking about, Moose?”

“You made it so he’s not a Nephilim. He’s a human. The way I see it, you either return his grace to him and make him a Nephilim again, so he actually holds value for you, or you let Cas go with us and keep his grace,” Sam’s voice was breaking, and Dean was honestly amazed that his little brother could form coherent thoughts, let alone make such a strong argument. That’s why Sammy was the smart one.

Cas’s eyes widened slightly, until he realized what Sam was doing. Either way, he could get out of here with the Winchesters. Human or Nephilim, it didn’t matter. If he got his powers back, he could get them out easily. 

“You think I’m going to give him his grace back? Not on your life. He is far too powerful to just let loose with all his abilities on high,” Crowley smirked at the thought.

“Then let him go. As a human, he’s of no use to you,” Sam reasoned from where he lay on his back.

Crowley smirked and set his expensive shoe on Sam’s broken arm. The cry of pain that came from his younger brother made Dean cringe before trying to do something, but he could barely stand up after his “fight” with Crowley. Besides, he was smart enough to see when there was nothing he could do.

“Crowley, stop!” Cas pushed himself up against the wall. He barely managed to stay on his feet, even with the concrete wall to support him.

“What do you want now?” the demon demanded, crossing his arms over his chest, looking annoyed at Cas for interrupting his all powerful moment of victory over all of his enemies at one time.

“Leave them alone. Send them back,” Cas was practically begging, and he was honestly disgusted with himself for doing so, but he had to think of something before Crowley killed them both.

“You know, I will, actually. Right after I do something,” Crowley smirked. “Moose made a valid point. You’re not useful as a human, and I need to make sure you can’t get away as a Nephilim.”

Cas didn’t like the sound of that. He watched in blind confusion as Crowley went over to his desk and brandished a can of red spray paint. Scarily similar to what Sam and Dean used to make demon traps. And that’s when it sunk in.

“Crowley, don’t,” Cas sounded so pathetic when he spoke that he actually cursed himself to pay for it later on.

“Shut up, please,” Crowley said rather calmly as he painted a careful circle on the floor, making a diamond and a few spirals inside. “You’re going to ruin my triumph, and I’m kind of in the middle of enjoying it.”

When the trap was finished, Crowley grabbed Cas by the collar and threw him to the ground in the center of the trap. Cas had never seen a trap like this before. He knew it did more than just keep an angel grounded.

Cas watched in dread as Crowley held out his grace for him. “Take it, you Nephilim scum. Take it or both of these failures die.”

Cas weakly reached up and took the small vile of essence from Crowley. He knew immediately that whatever was going to happen was bad.

“Cas, don’t!” Dean ordered, his voice deep and commanding and making Cas want so badly to obey. But he couldn’t.

Cas looked down at his grace. He didn’t know whether he should do it or not, but he knew that he didn’t have a choice. Crowley would stick to his word. Cas knew that much. What he didn’t know was whether Dean was right, and his being a cross between a human and an angel was good thing, or not so much.

“Now!” Crowley’s voice snapped Cas back to reality.

Cas looked up, seeing Crowley with Dean in a headlock and an angel blade at his throat. What exactly could Cas do other than what Crowley wanted?  
Cas held his breath as he opened his mouth slightly, welcoming his grace back in. The power that surged through his veins was beautiful. He couldn’t remember why he had agreed to give it up. He couldn’t remember why he’d ever wanted to be human. He had to enjoy just this one moment where he felt like he was undefeatable.

He heard Dean yelling at him, but it was too late. His angel half returned to him, his powers along with it. 

And the angel trap began to burn. He fell to his knees, collapsing onto his back and groaning in pain. It was terrible.


	37. Negotiation

Crowley may have mentioned that this particular angel trap was made to hurt the angel to keep it in place, or that may have been Cas’s conscience. Either way, it burned into his very core and made him curl up into a ball to attempt to protect himself from the circle of fire that was closing in on him.

He wasn’t sure if he screamed aloud or in his mind. By the way Dean was yelling at him and Crowley, he assumed it had been aloud.

“Dean,” he managed.

Crowley stood over him, laughing a bit. That made Cas want to jump up and kill him, but the pain of this trap was far too intense. He’d be lucky if he could move at all, let alone stand up. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to breathe steadily.

Cas tried slamming his head into the concrete floor, trying to put himself in a daze so the pain went away. But of course, it didn’t. He winced one last time before letting himself lie back and bear the pain.

“Dammit, Crowley!” Dean scrambled into the angel trap to pick Cas up in his arms. “I told you to fucking let him go!”

“And I told you no,” Crowley replied. “Not much you can do about that, Squirrel.”

“Just take the deal!” Dean screamed in outrage, holding Cas closer than before. He buried his face in the writhing angel’s shoulder. Cas cried out in fear and pain. 

“No,” responded Crowley.

“Crowley,” Dean snarled, holding Cas aggressively closer.

Crowley rolled his eyes like it didn’t matter an ounce to him that Dean was there pleading for Cas’s life. It was right then that Dean seemed to realize it didn’t. Cas felt him trembling with rage.

Cas managed to say something quietly, too quietly for Crowley to hear. “It’s okay, Dean. Just do what he says. Trust me. Please.”

How could Dean have said no to that? As much as he hated to admit it, he did have a heart. And no one with a heart could look down at Cas just then and tell him no. 

Sam hissed in pain again, and Crowley seemed to take that as a sign that the Winchesters had suffered enough for right now. He turned his back on Dean and laid a hand on Sam’s mangled arm, healing it. Sam continued to hold his arm, even though the pain had obviously subsided.

“Now,” Crowley announced with a small yet cruel smirk. “You two are leaving.”

“Over my dead body,” Dean snarled right back, not intimidated by the demon’s clear disregard of everyone in the room. Cas smirked in spite of himself.

It was then that Sam came to the rescue, protecting both his brother and the angel. He stepped forward, a hand still on his arm.

“Look, Crowley. How about you let us be on our merry way in exchange for us standing down? For good?” Sam’s offer was clearly tempting. Crowley looked mildly startled.

“Care to elaborate on that, Moose?” he crossed his arms.

“I mean that if you let Cas go, we won’t hunt you anymore. We’ll leave you to your world domination and whatnot. We stand down, as long as you return his grace and never try to take him again,” Sam clarified.

Dean winced. It was a great idea, and frankly one he should have thought of. But to let Crowley take over the world or something? That was nuts, no matter how much Dean would personally give up for Cas.

“That’s quite a risk you’re taking, Moose. You’re giving me complete freedom in exchange for the life of one piece of scum like Castiel? Priceless. As I’ve said, your father really never taught you Winchesters how to negotiate. You’re both terrible at it, though your offer is very tempting, Moose.”

“So you’re not going to take it?” Sam glared, raising an eyebrow, clearly having expected a different outcome. 

Crowley frowned. “I never said I wouldn’t take it. I just said it was a stupid thing to offer on your part. This Nephilim means nothing to me. Even though Castiel and I have had our moments,” Crowley grinned.

“You either take it or you don’t,” Sam shrugged.

Crowley chuckled. “As much as I would love world domination, I must decline. Simply because you Winchesters are too much fun. I’d be bored without you idiots showing up on Hell’s doorstep every day.”

Sam was startled when Crowley refused him. But he didn’t let it shake him up. “So is that your final answer?”

Crowley considered it, taking a painfully long time just to annoy the two brothers. “Give me a while to consider it, eh, Moose?”

Sam made a kind of snarling sound. “Knock it off, jackass. Yes or no. Now.”

Crowley seemed to find Sam’s anger funny, because he laughed at Sam’s trembling shoulders and curled lips. “Sorry, Moose. But I’m going to have to stick with no. You two are way too much amusement to give up. Though I commend you for that offer. It is indeed tempting, but unfortunately for you, I have plans for Castiel.”

Cas pulled out of Dean’s arms, despite the pain the angel trap was so obviously causing him. His entire body was shaking with the effort of supporting himself, but he managed. The pain was enough to nearly make him dry heave, but he somehow held himself together.

As Cas was trying to stare Crowley down, he felt something. Dean. Dean lightly took the angel’s hand, throwing his other arm around Cas’s shoulders and squeezing gently. Neither of them spoke a word. They didn’t have to.

“Crowley,” Cas somehow managed to keep his voice from breaking. “This wasn’t part of the deal. Let them go, and take my grace back.”

Crowley laughed at Cas’s pathetic display of what most would called sacrifice. But of course, being the King of Hell, Crowley had no sympathy for what Cas was trying to do. Which shouldn’t have been surprising. But Cas was still taken aback when Crowley actually laughed at him. He ducked his head.

“Castiel, get down,” Crowley smiled, pushing Cas backwards, knocking him down again. Cas winced as his shoulder brushed the boarder of the trap.

“Leave him alone,” Dean stood up from where he’d been kneeling next to Cas. He placed himself between the Nephilim and the demon.

“Move it, Dean. Both of you need to get out of here and go home. Otherwise I won’t be able to hold off on killing you both any longer,” Crowley sounded like he was being completely honest.

“No,” Cas groaned, getting to his knees once more, struggle in his eyes. “I have a deal, Crowley!”

“The third deal I’ve been offered in twenty minutes,” Crowley observed. “This should be good, then.”

“It is,” Cas winced. “You let me get the Winchesters back to the bunker, then you seal off any entrance to Hell they could use. You make sure they can’t come back here. In exchange for you letting them go, you get me. And when I say me, I mean I’ll go along with anything you dish up, even if it means doing something horrible.”

Crowley thought about it. Dean sighed, thinking it was a valiant offer, but that Crowley would never take it.

“Deal,” Crowley held a hand out for Cas, grinning.

That’s when Dean took action.


	38. Kicking Ass and Taking Names

Dean lunged at Crowley before his mind told him not to. All he wanted was to be back at the bunker with Cas and Sam. He wasn’t asking much. How had everything taken such a shitty turn for them?

“Dean, don’t!” Cas pleaded. Too late. Dean was already in full-on attack mode, and it was something that he couldn’t be pulled out of. 

Cas winced as the pain of the trap intensified, dragging him to the ground. Sam gave Cas a desperate look from across the room. They couldn’t let Dean finish this fight, because there was only one way it could possibly end.

Crowley had been caught off guard by Dean’s sudden movement, and he’d been easily knocked onto his back. Dean knew that Crowley could kill him with a single snap of his fingers, so he tried his best to keep his hands busy.

What Dean didn’t know was that Crowley would never just kill him. That would be too easy. He wanted Dean to suffer. And if not Dean, then Cas. He enjoyed their pain. It was revenge for all the times they’d ruined his day with their hero shit.

Cas knew this, however, and was silently praying that it turned out okay. That somehow Sam and Dean made it out of this with all their body parts intact. Which he knew Crowley probably wouldn’t allow. More than anything else, he just wanted to be able to talk to Dean. Maybe get the chance to tell him what he and Chase had discussed. How he really felt, maybe. At least, most of that truth.

But Dean was too furious now to be spoken to. The look in his eyes was savage, like a wild animal. He kicked and punched without even aiming, just trying to make contact and cause pain. Cas had only seen Dean like this a few times before, and all times, he couldn’t explain the fear that overtook him.

Crowley managed to regain control of the fight, and he turned it around easily and within seconds.

He caught Dean’s foot, leaping up and hurling the hunter backwards. Dean yelped as he slammed into a metal table. Cas winced as he heard a bone crack. Not break, like Sam’s had. Just crack, which would cause just as much discomfort as it would pain. And if it was one of his ribs, like Cas thought, it would be impossible to fight with.

“Dean!” Sam looked up, then struggled to his feet. Since his arm was healed, he could at least try to put up a fight.

Crowley sighed, turning his back on Dean, who had just gotten to his hands and knees. “Why can’t you two accept that this is one fight you can’t win?”

“We don’t take losing well,” Sam growled, charging forward.

Crowley sighed yet again, sounding more annoyed than angry, and he swiped his hand to the side, and Sam crumpled into a heap near the angel trap. Cas looked at him, slightly panicked, not knowing what Crowley did,

“Don’t worry, Cas,” Crowley chuckled. “He’s just knocked out. I’d give him a bit. He’s not gonna be feeling so good when he comes out of it.”

Cas tried to get to his knees again, but the pain worsened and dragged him back down. Cas nearly huffed in irritation.

Dean lunged for Crowley again, and that’s when everything turned terrible for the Winchesters and their angelic friend.

Crowley felt Dean leap onto his back, and he latched onto Dean’s shoulders and hurled him over his head. Dean landed hard on the ground, and got up just as quickly as he’d landed. He snarled at Crowley, looking like a starving wild dog that had been teased with food one too many times.

Crowley sighed. “Dean, please. This entire situation is getting very annoying. I would appreciate it deeply if you’d quit and leave.”

“Not gonna happen,” Dean growled.

Cas winced. He knew what was coming. Crowley’s mind games. Where he tortured you with truth you didn’t want to face until you broke. He’d gotten it before.

“Why don’t you give in, Dean?” Crowley began to circle the older Winchester. “Why do you continue to fight so hard for something you would normally kill?”

Dean followed Crowley’s movements with his eyes. “Because he’s our friend.”

Crowley smirked and raised his chin. “So you’re in the friend zone. Now tell me Dean, is he just your friend? Or is there something more you don’t wanna share with the group?”

Dean swallowed and lowered his head, glaring daggers at Crowley. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Crowley chuckled. “Oh, I think you do,” he walked casually over to Cas and grabbed him by the throat, lifting him up. Cas didn’t have the strength to fight back, so he settled on a grimace. “I think you know exactly what I’m talking about. Like when you’re home alone and you just want him to be there, pressed up against you. Fitting together like a jigsaw puzzle.”

Dean snarled again. “Put him down, you son of a bitch.”

Crowley obediently dropped Cas, who laid still and didn’t move from there. “Anything you say, Dean. But tell us, is there more to your friendship with Castiel than friendship? Are you, what do you say, crushing?”

Dean didn’t answer. He didn’t want to answer. Because Crowley was right. But he would never admit that to anyone, least of all Cas. Cas would think he was disgusting. He’d sneer and turn away. 

Crowley knelt beside Cas’s motionless body, grinning down at him. He slowly reached for Cas, only to receive a kick in the hand from Dean.

“Don’t touch him,” Dean warned, fury in his eyes and in his voice. 

Crowley laughed. “Such a loyal friend. Such a loyal whatever it is you want to be to Castiel. What a shame he doesn’t return your feelings.”

Dean frowned as Cas slowly opened his eyes and glanced back at him. Crowley laid a gentle hand on Cas’s cheek, smiling as if Cas was a precious little child. Cas would have bit him if he wasn’t practically unconscious.

That’s when Dean attacked again. Crowley caught him easily, shoving him to the ground. He wrapped his hand around Dean’s neck and squeezed until Dean’s lips turned blue. 

Cas’s eyes were barely open enough to see what was going on. But he could see Dean on the ground, his eyes skyward and his hands yanking uselessly at Crowley’s in a weak attempt to pull them off his throat.

“Dean,” Cas groaned. He forced himself to his hands and knees despite the pain, dragging himself to the boarder of the trap. The more he move, the worse the pain got, and he blacked out right at the edge.

He was still conscious. But only sightly. He could barely see anything, and the parts of his vision that weren’t blurry were black. He could see Dean though. 

The hunter was trapped beneath Crowley, and his breaths were short. It was clear that his attempts to draw air into his lungs were pointless. His eyes were watering and he continued to tug at Crowley’s hand.

The demon shot a quick grin at Cas. “You know, I thought this would feel worse.”

Cas struggled even more against the boarder, but it was useless. It was then that he saw Sam, slowly reaching toward the trap. He laid a hand on the edge of the trap, and he used his nails to scratch the drying red paint away. When there was a thin line through the width of the red circle, the trap broke.


	39. A Question of Fear

As soon as it broke, the pain ceased. Cas was free of the agony, but it left him about as weak as a two-year-old. But it was something, at least. He could move now. He quickly reached out to Sam and healed him, grateful when his power felt renewed and strong.

Sam coughed upon healing. He stayed down, seeing that Cas didn’t want to draw Crowley’s attention if he could avoid it.

Cas carefully got in position to spring. He hurled himself forward with a power and momentum he didn’t even know he had. And he slammed directly into Crowley, knocking him off of Dean and to the ground beside the hunter.

Cas felt newfound rage upon hearing Dean launch into a fit of violent hacking. The hunter was on the ground, and there were obviously some blood vessels burst. Dean’s pale face was streaked with tiny red lines.

Cas kicked Crowley harder than he thought he could, and the demon toppled backwards. Cas was at Dean’s side in a moment, hugging him close.

“Dean,” he whispered. “Dean, please hold on.”

He mustered up the power to heal, praying that his abilities didn’t leave him in the dust like last time. Dean wouldn’t make it if this didn’t work.

He laid a hand on Dean’s temple, and relief washed over him as Dean’s breathing turned normal and the hacking stopped. He gently let Dean pass out. The Winchester need the rest. Cas smiled a bit as he held Dean in his arms. This was what he’d been wanting since the Winchesters had shown up here.

“Dean, I’m sorry,” Cas whispered. He was never going to make another deal with Crowley. All those did was hurt the Winchesters.

That was when something collided with his back, throwing him forward and making him lose his grip on Dean. When Cas was able to reorient himself, he was thankful to see that Sam was holding Dean instead of him. Less thankful to see that Crowley was the one who’d pushed him forward.

“Crowley, stop,” Cas growled. “I don’t wanna fight you.”

“Because you’re in no shape to,” the demon replied easily. “Frankly, I do want to fight you, and nothing would satisfy me more than one of these idiots dying.”

Cas sighed and readied himself. Crowley wasn’t going to let up. The only way to help the brothers out of this was to fight.

Crowley brandished his angel blade and waited for Cas to do the same. Cas was startled to find that he still had it. Crowley must have returned it to him without his knowledge. Not that he was complaining. He could certainly make use of his blade right about now.

Cas made the first move, going straight for the heart of the problem. Literally. He tried to stab Crowley in the chest.

The demon sidestepped, watching as Cas almost fell when trying to stop. Cas did get a bit past him, and Crowley used it to his advantage by jamming his angel blade into Cas’s back, closer to his side.

Cas was brought to his knees and cried out in pain. He forced himself to get back up, and he went forward. Dean needed him. He wasn’t going to stand by. Not this time.

He glanced over at the hunters. Sam had stood up, Dean’s arm around his shoulders. He supported the larger man as best he could, but he was weak too. Even though Cas had healed him, going through hell- literally- wasn’t something you could just come back from. Even if Dean had done so before.

Crowley also took advantage of Cas’s distraction, coming forward and kneeing him in the stomach.

Cas grunted as he doubled over upon feeling the pain from Crowley’s jab. Had he been human, that would have been a blow that broke at least one of his ribs.

“Cas,” Sam said, looking worried for the angel. Cas tried to communicate with his eyes that it was okay. That he would be alright.

Cas retaliated rather quickly, coming back at Crowley with a powerful kick to the abdomen. He sent the demon tumbling backwards. Then he made his move. He landed on top of Crowley and placed the blade at his throat, ready to slice it open the second Crowley tried anything.

Crowley smirked suddenly. “Do it. Go on, kill me. Bring out your inner Nephilim, Castiel. You know you want to.”

Cas pushed the blade closer to Crowley’s neck. He tightened his grip on the weapon and glared into Crowley’s eyes. He would do it. He would kill Crowley and end this whole thing once and for all. 

“You can’t, can you?” Crowley grinned. “You’re too good to sink to my level. Some kind of ridiculous virtue these two taught you, am I right? Just think. A few years back and you wouldn’t have hesitated.”

Cas gritted his teeth. “I can kill you. Trust me, I’m an angel. I wouldn’t lose any sleep over it.”

Crowley smiled, lifting his chin to bare his throat. “Then do it. No one’s stopping you.”

Cas squeezed the blade. What Crowley was saying was true. The Winchesters wouldn’t care if he killed Crowley. The angels wouldn’t care if he killed Crowley. Hell, Crowley wouldn’t care if he killed Crowley. The only one making him hesitate was himself.

“Don’t act like you’re so tough, Castiel. We all know that deep down, you’re just a sweet little- what are those fluffy little angels called? Cherubs? Whatever. That’s all you are. A coward. You call it integrity. Here in Hell we call it being a pussy,” Crowley taunted.

Cas suddenly backed off, lowering the knife. “It’s not that I can’t. It’s that I refuse to be what everyone seems to think Nephilim are. I’m not a killer. As much as everyone would like to assume that I am.”

Crowley smirked. “Ah, Castiel. You’re no angel.”

Cas sighed and shook his head. “I guess I’m not.”

Crowley used Cas’s distraction against him and lunged forward. He got the angel down and stabbed him in the side, right where he had stabbed him earlier. If Cas hadn’t been so close to winning, he would have given up right then.

But Cas had two stubborn and reckless hunters to save. He forced himself to stand and buried his blade to the hilt in Crowley’s shoulder.

The demon groaned as Cas shoved him backwards. He was quick as he took that moment to make a run for the brothers. Instead, his legs were yanked out from under him by Crowley’s shoe.

“Castiel, you’ve brought my patience to its end,” Crowley growled as he took his blade and set it at Cas’s neck.

He began to cut into the Nephilim’s throat, and Cas would have swallowed if it wouldn’t have killed him.

Cas wasn’t such a pushover, however, and slammed his shoe into Crowley’s knee, bringing the demon to the ground. Cas smirked as he punched Crowley in the face and followed up with a kick that took the King of Hell down again.

“Nice going, Cas,” Sam murmured. “Now do you have enough power to get us out of here, or are we walking?”

“Crowley’s demons are guarding every inch of this place. He’s probably calling them right now,” Cas nodded at where Crowley had been on the floor seconds ago. “I’ll have to at least get you two out of here. The demons are coming right now, if my timing is correct.”

Sam nodded. Cas slowly reached out and set his hands on Dean and Sam’s shoulders. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. If there was any time to embrace being a Nephilim, it was now.


	40. A Moment of Peace

Cas had never felt so thankful as when he opened his eyes and he and the Winchesters were standing in the living room of the bunker. Dean had opened his eyes and was looking around, as if trying to remember what happened.

Sam smiled. He looked at Cas like he was about to say something, but before he could, Cas’s exhaustion and weakness set in. 

The Nephilim collapsed at Sam and Dean’s feet, practically dead. He was only slightly aware of what was going on around him.

“Cas!” Dean said, sounding afraid. Sam had already rushed out of the room to get God knows what. 

Dean didn’t hesitate. he reached down and gathered Cas into his arms, shushing him like he was a frightened child burdened with nightmares. He held the Nephilim close to his chest, carrying him over to the couch and laying him down. He put a hand on Cas’s shoulder, looking at him worriedly.

He looked at the angel. Cas had risked so much for them, had almost died for them, and Dean still chose to hide the truth from him. Crowley had been right. Dean would never admit to what he felt when he looked at Cas. He couldn’t take any more disappointment in his life. Not from someone he cared about as much as Cas.

Sam returned with first aid equipment. It wouldn’t heal Cas; Cas’s body would do that on its own. But this would be a step closer. Besides, Cas’s human side could certainly use this stuff. Dean nodded at his brother.

“Sam, stand close. Might need you to help me hold him down,” Dean murmured, trying to keep his voice flat.

Sam nodded.

Dean carefully lifted Cas’s shirt and winced. The hours of torture were evident on his body. There were bruises and gashes covering the area of Cas’s skin. He shook his head in anger and guilt.

“This is my fault,” he muttered as he slid Cas’s shirt over his head, so the angel was shirtless. He took an alcohol swab over the blood on the Nephilim’s skin, so he could at least work with a relatively clean surface.

“No, it’s not,” Sam protested.

“He wouldn’t have gone there if it hadn’t been for me,” Dean reasoned. “He went because I told him to find a way to help you.”

“Then it was his choice. Not yours and not mine. Don’t beat yourself up over this. The best we can do is try to help him get better,” Sam countered, always the logical one. He looked down at Cas with pity in his eyes.

Dean looked at the two major knife wounds in Cas’s side. “Yeah, I guess,” he took another alcohol swab and carefully cleaned out the larger wound. He was grateful Cas had passed out. At least he wasn’t feeling this.

Dean cleaned both wounds, and he knew that Cas hated needles, but he didn’t care. What he was doing would make Cas heal a lot faster, so it was worth it.

Dean took the needle and stitching thread, weaving it in and out of the wound. Sam had shown him how to do this. It was a skill he wished he didn’t have to use as often as he did. But he carefully worked it so the wound closed on itself.

When he finished, he laid a hand on Cas’s forehead. “Fever,” he declared. Sam, without hesitation, left the room and returned with a bottle of water and some Tylenol. The Tylenol probably wouldn’t help, but it was worth a shot. Anything to make sure Cas would be alright. Even if it was pointless.

Dean gently shook Cas awake, wincing when he gasped upon sitting up. He knew the angel had been dreaming. No one just came out of sleep terrified like that.

Sam frowned and left the room again, presumably to either get something or give his brother some privacy. Either way, Dean silently told his little brother how great he was. He needed a few minutes alone with Cas.

“Easy, angel,” Dean eased him back down, a hand under his head, supporting him. He held out the Tylenol tablets and water. “Take this. It’ll help.”

Cas frowned and obeyed, tipping his head back to drink the water. Dean pushed his sweaty hair away from his forehead. He’d be alright. Dean smiled and rubbed his shoulder lightly, trying to soothe him back into sleep. 

“You’re gonna be fine,” Dean assured him gently. 

Cas closed his eyes and sighed. He was exhausted and wounded and weak. The angel trap and the torture and the fight and the overuse of his powers and the loss of his grace had left him in rough shape. But he would be okay. As long as Dean was here with him, he would be okay.

Cas felt Dean hesitantly take his hand. He welcomed the touch openly, grateful for any comfort he could get. Dean’s other hand continued to stroke the hair away from Cas’s clammy forehead. Cas was happy to have the hunter be so gentle with him.

“I’m sorry, Cas,” Dean whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

Cas opened his blue eyes slightly, tiredly. “For what? You didn’t do anything.”

“For letting this happen,” Dean clarified. “I’m sorry I made you decide to do this, and I’m sorry I barged in there without a plan.”

Cas chuckled. “A plan? You? Please. I expected nothing else. I would have been disappointed if you’d had a plan.” 

Dean smiled at that and then frowned upon realizing what it was time to do. Cas should know, he told himself. Cas didn’t keep secrets from him.

“Uh, Cas? You know what Crowley was saying? About how I see you and shit?” Dean began, then cursed himself for phrasing it like that. The idea here was to get Cas to understand, not make him turn away. 

“Yes,” Cas nodded slowly, still tired as hell. Dean could see that and was slightly happy about it. With Cas so out of it, this conversation would be a lot shorter.

“Well, he was right. There is more to it,” Dean said quietly. “But if you say a word to anyone, I will kill you.”

“You mean more to what Crowley was saying? About our friendship?” Cas didn’t follow right away.

“Yes, you dummy,” Dean replied, giving Cas a look.

Cas, who was still shirtless, reached up and forced Dean into a hug. Not that Dean would have pulled away. He loved being so close to Cas. He hugged his friend back and looked at him.

“Good to have you back, angel,” Dean grinned.

“Good to be back,” Cas replied.

Dean and Cas let their eyes meet, and when Dean’s jade greens clashed with Cas’s ocean blues, something stirred deep within both of them. A spark they were both sure had been long extinguished.


	41. Suck It Up

Cas would never admit it, but he had a mini panic attack when Dean left the room. He returned a few minutes later with Sam following. Sam was on the laptop, reading about Nephilim, and Dean was holding a beer and another bottle of water. He offered both to Cas, but the angel only accepted one.

Cas took a swig of the water, grateful. Dean turned to Sam, who was staring at the computer in deep concentration. He occasionally reported facts, none that Crowley hadn’t already explained to Cas, but ones that Dean seemed rather shocked about.

“What the hell is a Flaw?” Dean crossed his arms. “And more importantly, what the hell is yours?”

Cas thought it was time to be honest. “You.”

Dean jerked back as if Cas had struck him. “Wait, what?”

“You’re my Flaw, Dean,” Cas said. “A Nephilim’s Flaw is something that exposes their human side, makes them vulnerable. It’s often something they care more about than themselves. Something that makes them reckless and stubborn. You’re mine.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I was away from you for a few hours and almost died. The thing you don’t grasp is that a Nephilim can learn to control its Flaw. By being close to it every second of every day until they can use their powers freely. I’m almost at that point,” Cas clarified, hoping Dean wouldn’t be too mad at him.

Sam looked between his brother and Cas, shocked.

“But you’ll be alright?” Dean said, and braced himself for the answer. If he was the one who was causing Cas pain, he would be happy to jump out of a fourth-story window.

“Yes, as long as you are. When a Nephilim’s Flaw is destroyed, so are they. Not immediately of course. But it would make it so all I felt was pain,” Cas explained, trying not to phrase it exactly the way Crowley had. He wanted to sound at least a tiny bit intelligent when talking about his own species.

Okay, scratch the jumping out the window plan. “That’s a fucking bum rap if I ever heard one,” Dean declared.

Cas chuckled and nodded. “It is.”

Suddenly, Sam grabbed Dean’s arm and yanked him along with him. “Dean, I need to talk to you.”

When the two were out in the hallway, Sam crossed his arms. Dean waited for him to say something. When all he got was a steely glare, he turned and decided to awkwardly head back into the living room. Sam stopped him.

“What’s going on?” the younger Winchester demanded.

Sam was way too smart for his own good sometimes. Dean decided to deny anything until given hard evidence. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you and Cas, Dean,” Sam spat. “I heard what Crowley said, and I know what I see. What the hell is going on between you two?”

Dean drew back slightly. “Nothing. You sure you don’t wanna lie down, Sammy?”

Sam glared at his brother. “Dean, please. It’s not like I’m gonna disown you. I just want the truth for once. After all I go through for you, you owe me that much.”

Dean winced with each of his brother’s words, looking down at the scars on Sam’s hands. He was right. Sam went through way too much for Dean to be lied to. It was about time that he got the truth.

“Fine,” Dean snapped. “Fine,” he dragged a hand down over his face. “You’re right. There might be something going on. I might really like Cas. I don’t know. It’s really not your business anyway.”

Sam shook his head and pushed by Dean suddenly. He swung into his room.

“What?” Dean crossed his arms, angry that he’d been honest, and the only reward he got was a shove into the wall. “Humiliated, are we, Sammy? Are you really that ashamed of your brother the faggot?” Dean’s eyes were burning, and he couldn’t place why.

Sam shot back out of the room, adjacent to Dean and a bit down the hall, as if they were having a showdown. His face was a mask of hurt and disbelief.

“How could you say that, Dean?” Sam’s voice was low. “Do you really have such little faith in me?”

“Well, first I tell you that I might be crushing on a dude, then you shove by me and disappear into your room. What do you want me to think?” Dean crossed his arms tightly over his chest, trying not to shake.

Sam furiously held up a bottle of water and some kind of medicine. “I shoved by you because I heard Cas coughing up a storm in there,” he bitterly tossed both items at Dean, who caught them, feeling like an asshole.

“Sam,” he said. But Sam had already gotten his rant up and running.

“The only thing I’m pissed at you for is not telling me. I mean, do you not trust me? Do you not trust your fucking brother? Or is little bro Sammy just too young to get the truth? You sparing me a life of disappointment? Too late, Dean, I’m living that now!” Sam clenched his fists at his sides before storming into his room and locking the door.

Dean shook his head. “Way to go, Dean. Real smooth.”

Sighing, he knew that Sam would have to wait. He took the medicine and water that Sam had thrown him and went back into the living room, where Cas looked at him with innocent blue eyes.

“Is something wrong?” Cas’s eyes were slightly closed; he was still so exhausted from everything that had gone down. 

Dean didn’t want Cas to worry about Sam or him. He wanted him to focus on healing and getting fighting fit. The Nephilim had more than enough to worry abut without stressing himself over Sam and Dean.

“Nope, everything’s great,” Dean lied.

Cas looked at him for a moment, like he knew he was lying. He began to force himself into a sitting position, but gasped and fell backwards. Dean was at his side in an instant, putting his hands under Cas’s shoulders as gently as possible, like he was dipping him in a dance, and he pulled him up carefully.

“Cas,” Dean said, helping him readjust himself so he was sitting, his arm slung over the back of the couch. “Don’t push it too much.”

Cas shook his head. “I’m okay,” he insisted. 

Dean frowned, looking at Cas with worried but fierce eyes. “Look, I just want you to try to relax. Get some rest.”

Cas shook his head. “I’m fine, Dean.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “I thought angels weren’t supposed to lie,” he pointed out, looking at Cas.

“We’re not supposed to fall in love with humans, either,” Cas replied calmly.

Dean gave him a look. It wasn’t direct, but it was the closest thing to a confession of love that Dean could expect from the Nephilim at this point. He found himself grinning and not knowing why.

“Plus,” Cas continued. “I’m a Nephilim. I have an excuse now. I’m not playing by angel rules. I’m playing by human ones.” He quoted what Chase had told him earlier.

Dean smirked at that. “Cool how you actually get a choice now. Before you were all factory reset and forgetting your name.”

Cas chuckled under his breath, looking into Dean’s eyes. He was happier than he’d been in a long time.


	42. Brutal Honesty

Dean sat next to Cas for a long time before the desire acted for him. He reached out and took Cas’s hand. Cas looked at him questioningly.

“Are you sure, Dean? You know it will be dangerous for both of us,” he warned him. Cas tried to be gentle, but he was afraid for Dean as well. It was hard to choose between what he wanted and what was best.

Dean nodded. “As sure as I can be,” he replied easily. And he meant it. He wanted this. He wanted Cas. He didn’t care about the price.

Cas shook his head. “Angels don’t love, Dean. Most angels feel nothing. The only way this can work is if I cut myself off from the angel world forever. You have to know that before we decide anything. I can no longer go to Heaven and ask for help. I’ll just be a human with pretty bizarre powers. I’ll die early.”

“How early?”

“About a year after you,” Cas clarified. “So it’s best for both of us if you try to stay alive. Can you do that?”

Dean thought about it. “So it can work?”

“Assuming you don’t die and it doesn’t ruin our lives or your relationship with your brother?” Cas looked at him, then leaned his head back. “Yes, I really think it can,” he smiled a bit, looking at the hunter.

Dean cracked a smile at that. “You know, for the longest time, I’ve felt weird about you. Like when you told us about Meg. I don’t know why, but I got jealous enough to go strangle her. I guess I understand now.”

Cas winced and began to shake with the effort of keeping his head up. Dean sighed and held his arms out. Like a positive current drawn to a negative one, Cas slid into Dean’s arms, letting the hunter adjust him however was most comfortable.

They ended up with Dean on the end of the couch, one leg propped up, the other stabilizing Cas. Cas lay against him, his head on the hunter’s shoulder. As soon as Dean had slipped his arms around Cas’s waist and began to massage at his waist, Cas had fallen directly to sleep.

Dean let Cas slumber in his arms. He knew that Cas was comfortable. Even though Dean’s own leg had fallen asleep, he was proud to know that Cas was content. If not happy, at least content. The hunter let his mind wander while Cas slept.

This was being gay for sure. Something Dean had always thought was weak. He’d never understood how two dudes could be in love. Hell, he wasn’t even in love with Cas. Not yet. He just had really strong feelings for the angel. He wasn’t sure whether this was just a passing phase, or if it was something deeper. Lord, he hoped it was something deeper. He wanted a real love. Just once, he wanted to be in love.

He smiled and laid his head back. He began to hum, and it slowly melted into him quietly singing “Behind Blue Eyes.” He looked down at Cas as he sang it, lightly stroking a hand over his cheek.

He let himself get lost in the lyrics as he tried to figure out what his complicated emotions were telling him.

 

“No one knows what it’s like

to be the bad man

to be the sad man

behind blue eyes

 

No one knows what it’s like

to be hated

to be fated

to telling only lies

 

But my dreams

they aren’t as empty

As my conscience seems to be

 

I have hours 

Only lonely

My love is vengeance

that’s never free-“

 

Dean halted, embarrassed, when he looked down and saw Cas staring up at him. He even felt a blush creep up his neck.

“You have a beautiful voice, Dean,” Cas said softly. 

Dean nodded. “Uh, thanks,” he managed. All he’d wanted was Cas in his arms. Now that he had what he wanted, he needed more. 

When their eyes met, it was clear they both wanted the same thing. They were just too afraid to admit it. Too afraid that the other would be disgusted or angry. Too afraid that their feelings would not be returned.

The braver of the two, as it turned out, was Dean. Because he made the first move. He lightly cupped Cas’s jaw and made the angel tilt his head up so that their lips could touch. Neither of them pulled away when Dean’s chapped, warm lips met Cas’s pale, split ones. A fire flooded through both of them.

Cas forgot the pain he was feeling, turning in Dean’s arms so that their arms were locked around each other. Dean had his arms around Cas’s waist, and Cas had his arms tight around Dean’s neck. There may have been hot desire burning within them, but for right now, Dean was as gentle as if Cas was a newborn baby. 

He cupped Cas’s cheek, rubbing his thumb along Cas’s jaw in easy circles. His mouth moved with Cas’s. The only thing that even slightly bothered Dean was how well Cas was doing. The Nephilim moved like he’d had quite a bit of experience. But he was also glad. When the time came, he could take Cas for his own and Cas would be right there with him.

The couch was too hard to really get comfortable on, but they did their best. Dean laid down on his back, letting Cas use him as a headrest. He brushed his lips over Cas’s mouth, then slid them over to Cas’s ear, kissing his way down his neck. He was more grateful than anyone could have been when he kissed Cas’s lips again, only to have Cas slip him a bit of tongue. He returned the sensation, but carefully.

The Nephilim let out a soft sigh, helpless in Dean’s arms. Cas was honestly shocked. Dean had never been so gentle, so loving, towards anything before. He was so happy right then. He finally was with Dean, and Dean was with him. Was it love? He couldn’t say for sure just yet. But he knew that he would do just about anything for Dean.

Dean lightly pushed the angel back long enough to look into Cas’s eyes. “I’ve known you for years, and we never got the sense to do this?”

Cas chuckled, lowering himself back onto Dean. They kissed again, and that’s when Cas slowly backed off. Dean grudgingly got up as well. Cas looked noticeably better. It appeared that Dean’s presence was helping him.

He reluctantly grabbed the black shirt that Dean had loaned him and slipped it over his head. Dean frowned at the move.

Dean pulled Cas back into his arms and forced the angel to lay down. Before they could get comfortable again, however, they heard a sound that made their hearts go cold.

“Hello, boys,” Crowley chuckled.

Cas whipped his head around to face him. “Crowley,” he snarled.

At Crowley’s feet, Sam was unconscious and pale and sweaty and looked exactly like he had before Cas had made Crowley heal him. Like a living, breathing corpse.


	43. Yet Another Deal

“Sam!” Dean shot to his feet and came forward.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Crowley waggled a finger at Dean, halting him in his tracks. “I don’t want you, Squirrel. I’m here for Cas. This will be easy, I promise.”

Cas was on his feet in no time, despite the obvious agony it caused him.

Cas came forward slowly, his eyes daring Crowley to make a move. “What’s going on? What did you do to him?”

Crowley smiled almost sheepishly. “I guess I did get a little carried away in my plan to catch you, Castiel. See, what happened was, I knew I couldn’t do this to Dean. You wouldn’t leave his side. Then I realized, if Dean’s poor little heart was hurting, then you would do just about anything to fix it. Even come to me.”

“Are you saying this was just one of your sick spells to get to me?” Cas folded his arms over his bare chest.

Crowley chuckled. “You catch on quickly, angel,” he brandished a tiny black pouch. A hex bag.

Dean, meanwhile, had crawled to his brother’s side and held Sam in his lap. Cas shook his head sadly. He saw right then and there that Crowley would never let him win. Not for real. He looked at the demon.

“You want me back, right?” Cas tilted his head.

“Right,” Crowley said with a polite smile. Like he wasn’t going to hurt anyone, even Cas if he could avoid it. Cas was ready to play at Crowley’s own game, if that’s what he wanted to do to them.

“Well, too bad,” Cas lunged for the hex bag. Crowley rolled his eyes and snatched it away. Cas gritted his teeth in frustration.

“Rethink that one, angel. I’ll kill you if I have to,” Crowley replied calmly, and even an idiot could tell he wasn’t lying.

“I’m not afraid of death, Crowley,” Cas straightened up.

Crowley considered that. “No, I suppose you’re not. Well, you see our dear little Sammy? I’m going to do the same thing to precious big brother Dean, unless you agree to get your Nephilim ass back to Hell. What do you say?”

Cas looked at Sam. Imagining Dean like that made him sick to his stomach. The bunker fell absolutely silent while everyone waited in silence for Cas’s answer.

“Alright,” Cas said.

“No!” Dean snapped, starting to stand. Crowley waved his hand, pinning Dean to the floor rather violently, but without even touching him.

“I’ll go back with you once and for all,” Cas said. “On several conditions. You leave the Winchesters alone for good, you heal Sam, and you let me spend two more days with them. Those are my negotiations.”

“Knock it down. I’ll give you two of those things,” Crowley reasoned. “It’s better than what you have now, which is two useless Winchester who could die with the snap of a finger.”

Cas shook his head. “If you want me bad enough, you’ll take the deal.”

Crowley considered that. “Fine. You get two more days with them. But two and only two. And if either of them try to stop me when I come for you, they both die. Make sure they’re clear on that little detail.”

Cas nodded, amazed that Crowley had agreed to give him that much. He made a mental note to salvage the next two days, and to tell Dean everything he’d never had the courage to. Two days was not a long time.

“Cas, what are you doing?” Dean asked, sounding almost horrified as he realized exactly what Cas had offered.

Cas ignored him, not wanting to look at him just yet. He instead cast his gaze toward the floor, where he was met with the sight of a tiny spider crawling on Crowley’s shoe. He smiled a bit at the arachnid’s ignorance. It had no idea it was crawling on the shoe belonging to the King of Hell. How could it? It was a bug.

Dean looked down at Sam as Crowley reached toward the younger of the two Winchesters. He healed him and turned back to Castiel. Sam shot into a sitting position and  looked at his brother.

“Dean, what the hell?” Sam demanded, folding his arms defensively. He saw Crowley and immediately drew his knife. Upon Dean’s head shake, he returned it. 

Crowley turned back to Cas, still having a smug look that made Cas wonder why he tried to negotiate anything with the demon anymore. Crowley always managed to end up getting his way. 

“Alright, Castiel. I suppose I’ll see you on Wednesday, then. That’s a date,” he chuckled, placing a threatening hand on Dean’s shoulder.

Dean growled and jerked away. Crowley looked amused as he did it again, this time digging his fingers into Dean’s collarbone. The Winchester yelped and drew back. Sam bit his lip to keep from snapping. 

Cas, however, was not so diplomatic. “Get out, Crowley. I don’t wanna start a fight, but I will if I have to.”

Crowley laughed again, but his smile vanished when he looked into Cas’s blue eyes. They were filled with murderous rage and had an eerie glow to them. His fists were balled up so tight that his knuckles turned white, his nails digging deep into his palms. His lips were curled back into what could pass off as a snarl in the animal world. He looked like what older siblings teased their little brothers and sisters about when they asked if there was something hiding under their beds at night.

Dean looked up at Cas. And it seemed for one moment that he wasn’t looking at Cas. He was almost afraid of what seemed to have taken over the angel. Never in Dean’s life had he seen Cas look more frightening, more intimidating, than he did right then. And he wasn’t sure why he was so scared, but he backed up so far that he bumped into Sam.

Everything was dead silent as Cas stared Crowley down. His shoulders were squared and despite the small size of the Nephilim, he looked like he was enormous. The muscles in his abdomen and arms were tense, and he looked like a panther about to lunge. 

“Cas,” Dean whispered.

Cas was snapped back to reality at hearing Dean’s voice. He shook his head in a poor attempt to clear it.

Crowley took a single step back, the impact of his shoe knocking the little spider to the floor. He gave a small nod to Cas.

“Wednesday,” he smirked and disappeared.

Cas turned to Dean, smiling slightly. “So we get two more days, which is fair. We have all day today and tomorrow and then the next day, he’ll come back.”

Dean glared at him, arms crossed. “I’m going to fucking kill you in your fucking sleep, you stupid fucking moron.”

That was not the reaction that Cas had been hoping for, but it was better than Dean’s silence, so he’d take it.


	44. Plans

Cas looked down, ashamed but still knowing that it had been the right thing to do. “I’m sorry, Dean. But I had no choice.”

“Bullshit,” Dean said angrily. “We could have fought him off. You didn’t have to go offering your personal freedom- again, mind you- and you certainly didn’t have to do it without consulting us, Cas. Do you have a fucking death wish?”

Cas shook his head slowly. “It’s not that, Dean.”

“Then what the hell-?” Dean was cut off by his always-understanding and logical younger brother.

“Hey, it doesn’t matter,” Sam snapped. “We have two days. We might as well enjoy it while it lasts. There’s no going back now anyway.”

Dean frowned but seemed to accept it. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he mumbled before glancing awkwardly around. “So what do we do?”

Cas smiled, taking that as a cue to do something that could be pegged as crazy. He went over to Dean and slid an arm around his waist. He wasn’t sure why Sam didn’t give them a look, or even seem at all awkward, but he wasn’t about to complain. Having Sam okay with their relationship made it so much easier.

“What do you want to do?” Cas asked, pulling Dean into him. 

Sam smirked and looked at Dean. Neither of them really had any idea. They were hunters. Fun was something that didn’t come often to them. In fact, sometimes, they forgot how to do it.

“Eat beef jerky and watch some horror movies?” Dean suggested, trying not to think that in two short days, he was going to lose Cas forever. He made it a point to spend as much time with Cas as possible until then.

“Or just sit around and find ourselves a case?” Sam shrugged.

So Cas was no expert on fun. Nor would he ever claim to be. But he did know that fun was something that made you happy. Made you smile and laugh and think about how good life could be. Not what the Winchesters did on a daily basis.

“Look, you guys do that all the time,” Cas protested. “How about we go somewhere we’ve never been?”

Dean and Sam exchanged a look. Being able to get out of the bunker and take a small vacation was just what they needed. But neither of them knew anywhere they could possibly go. They’d already traveled the entire US at one point or another.

Dean shrugged. “Sure but don’t look at us for location ideas.”

“That’s alright,” Cas managed a smile. “I have an idea.”

“Where are you trying to drag us now?” Dean made a weak attempt to return the look, but smiling was hard when there was a tragedy in your mind.

“It’s a surprise,” Cas said, copying one of the most human phrases he knew. His ultimate goal for the next few days was to make the Winchesters as damn happy as they could possibly be. Especially Dean, who seemed so sad lately.

“Oh, that’s how you’re gonna be,” Sam smirked. “Actually, tell you what. I know where I want to go. The two of you can go have fun on your own.”

Dean’s heart jumped at the idea of just being with Cas. It was an idea that made him feel especially tingly in the regions of his body that no one else used. He looked from Cas to Sam. “I can’t ask you to do that, Sammy.”

“Trust me,” Sam replied. “I hate being third wheel. Plus there’s something I have to do.”

“You sure you’ll be alright without us?” asked Dean slowly. Like he felt guilty for ditching his brother. 

“I’ll be fine. You guys deserve these two days for yourselves. Make up for lost time,” Sam grinned, but it was subtly forced.

Dean smiled back. “Thanks, little bro. But what are you gonna do?”

“I just have something I need to get done. How would you like it if I asked you what you’re gonna do?” Sam challenged playfully.

“I wouldn’t care,” Dean countered, and Cas smirked. The brothers were a family that he was happy to have.

“Oh, really? Then what, Dean, are you gonna do for the next two days?” Sam smirked.

Cas, his mind answered. Immediately he shook that thought out of his head, trying to keep the warmth that flooded his body under control. Why was his heart pounding? God, was he really this pathetic when it came to Cas?

“Nothing,” he answered quickly, his face scarlet. Sam saw that and immediately started to laugh.

“Nothing, huh?” Sam said through his laughter.

“Shut up!” Dean elbowed him hard enough to bruise. Which made Sam laugh harder and elbow Dean back with twice the force.

Dean tackled Sam to the ground and they began to wrestle. Cas grinned as he took a step back, giving them the whole floor. This was what they were supposed to be, these two. And what they would be even after Cas was gone. What they needed to be, and what Cas prayed they would stay. They couldn’t lose each other. They could lose Cas.

“Bitch!” Dean shouted as he pinned his brother down.

“Jerk!” Sam replied with a grin as he shoved Dean off. Both of them laughed as they got to their feet.

“You enjoy the show, Cas?” Dean crossed his arms. 

Cas smiled even wider. “It was amusing, yes.”

The brothers exchanged another look, and both of them looked to Cas. Apparently, Sam was going to stay and do God knows what, while Cas and Dean could travel the world for the next two days.

“Goodbye, Sam. See you on Tuesday night,” Cas said slowly, giving the younger Winchester a light hug.

Sam hugged back and then moved to Dean, giving his older brother a tight hug, laying his chin on his shoulder. It would be a long two days apart, but they could handle it. They did spend a year apart.

“Bye, Sammy. You take care of yourself, okay? I’ll see you in a few,” Dean smirked.

Sam smiled. “Have fun, guys.”

Cas couldn’t help but smile as he laid a hand on Dean’s shoulder and flickered out. He reappeared right where he wanted to. Dean had his eyes shut and was holding Cas’s hand tightly, like if he let go, Cas would leave him behind.

“Open your eyes, Dean,” Cas told him. He looked around. This place was perfect, and he knew that Dean would like it.

Dean opened his eyes and looked around. After taking in their surroundings, he turned to Cas with question in his eyes. “Uh… Cas? Where the hell are we?”


	45. Dream Date

Cas smiled, taking in a deep breath of air. “I believe you humans call it Niagara Falls?”

“No, I know where we are,” Dean amended, like the meaning of his question should have been blatantly obvious. “I mean, why are we here and how the hell did we end up on top of the falls?”

Cas’s smile didn’t falter. “We’re here because you’ve never been. And we got up here because I teleported,” the smile did, however, fade into a sly smirk. Cas looked impressed with his own wit.

Dean chuckled, then let himself take it all in. He and Cas stood on a rock that branched off two waterfalls. The mist of the roaring water came up to blast him in his face, cold and refreshing and extremely wet. Dean couldn’t help but grin.

He looked down. The huge falls crashed into a small collection of water below, flowing off into a river. The river twisted and turned through the woods, which were dyed with orange and red, the colors of fall. There was a light breeze, one that immediately created a sense of peace in the air. This was a beautiful thing, and Dean immediately wished Sammy could see it. But the more selfish side of him prevailed. He wanted this moment with Cas to be all his own, and he didn’t wanna share.

“You like it?” Cas asked hesitantly, hoping he had made the right choice.

Dean tried to be that casual touchy best friend as he slung an arm over Cas’s shoulders, but it was far from casual, and Dean was sure that Cas could hear his heart pounding a million miles a minute.

“Yeah, it’s pretty great, Cas,” Dean nodded.

Cas looked at him, and he slowly slipped a comforting and stabilizing arm around Dean’s muscular waist. The hunter smiled a bit, and the look was gentle. Neither of them wanted to move, unless they would be moving closer to each other. Which of course, was exactly what Dean decided to do.

Dean pulled Cas around so they were facing each other. Then he moved himself into Cas’s embrace. Cas held Dean close to his chest as the two of them looked out over the falls. The funny part was that both of them knew what the other was thinking, yet they didn’t understand a single emotion of their own.

“I love…” Dean realized what he had been about to say, and he quickly covered his brutal mistake. “This place. It’s gorgeous.”

He had wanted to say that he loved Cas. But he didn’t… did he?

Cas smiled, looking gratified nonetheless. “I’m glad.”

Dean laced his fingers with Cas’s and pulled back so he could look at him. Dean’s jade green eyes locked on Cas’s deep blue ones, and everything around them dissolved into the air. Everything around them was silent and calm. The only sound either of them heard was their own heart.

The kiss was gentle, but needy. Most could tell that these two wanted so much more than they were being given.

“Dean,” Cas pulled away, being as ginger as he possibly could, never wanting this moment to end, but not wanting to delay what was entirely inevitable. “Look, do you see that?”

Dean followed Cas’s gaze and halted. There was a huge bird’s nest of some sort on a branch that stuck out from the cliff just off to their left. In it was a huge egg, and on the side of it was a huge eagle. The bird cried out, and a larger eagle, a male, joined her in the nest. They butted their heads together lightly.

The larger male gave a loud scream and dove off the cliff, returning a few minutes later with a field mouse in his massive talons. The female picked it apart slowly, never taking her eyes off her mate.

Cas’s hand was still intertwined with Dean’s. The hunter’s hand was warm, and Cas’s was cold. The Nephilim couldn’t help but grin.

“They’re beautiful,” Dean realized a moment later.

Cas nodded. But not as beautiful as you, his mind mocked him. “Yes, even animals show more emotion than angels,” he spoke instead. Then he bit his lip. Couldn’t he just once forget that all of that existed?

Dean shrugged, surprising Cas. “Well, you’re not wrong.”

Cas smiled again, knowing what his friend was saying. Cas was not an angel. Not really. And Dean wanted him to know that was a good thing.

Cas sighed contentedly, laying his chin on Dean’s head as he hugged the hunter into him. Luckily, Dean wasn’t much taller than Cas, so he didn’t have to duck too much. Still, it was nice to feel so strong.

“Let’s go,” Cas offered Dean his other hand, and Dean smiled, taking it, so their hands were joined with one another and crossed in front of them. Their eyes never left each other’s face as Cas blinked out.

They reappeared at the base of the falls, and Dean was shocked. It was nearly as beautiful from down here as it was up there. The water foamed up upon collision with the small lake that ran off into the river. There was a perfect place right by the falls for what Cas did. 

In a bare circle, one free of trees and bushes and weeds, there was a large sleeping bag, big enough for two. Everything was laid out perfectly.

Dean frowned upon realizing that Cas had this planned for longer than just today. How much longer, was the only thing that bothered him. 

“I had this in mind for months,” Cas explained, as if reading Dean’s thoughts. He chuckled, sounding half in disbelief and half in genuine happiness. “I just never thought you’d actually get to see it.”

Dean frowned again. Cas had felt this way about him for a long time. He planned this for Dean in case the hunter ever came to his senses and admitted to caring about the angel. And Dean hadn’t. He’d let Cas down. For the thousandth time, he’d let Cas down. 

Cas would never have shown him this place unless Dean was perfectly okay with their relationship. That was obvious. So in order to be able to enjoy his feelings, Cas had planned this out for them because he knew he’d never get a real night beside Dean Winchester. That fact made Dean feel sick.

Cas looked up at the sky. It was already getting late, and the best part was yet to come. He had to be quick if this was to go exactly as he wanted it to. Cas had never been good at thinking of romantic things, but he had mastered Google long enough to search the best dates ever. He’d planned so much more than just this one. It was something he did in his free time to distract himself from the fact that he could never have what he wanted.

Of course, when he’d done this, he hadn’t dared think of them as date. Just things that he would love to do with Dean, and things Dean would love to do with him. It wasn’t too incredibly much, but it was all Cas could offer.

The sun began to fall, and Cas led Dean to the water’s edge and told him to close his eyes. Dean complied, and for ten straight minutes, he had his eyes closed while Cas spoke to him in a gentle voice about things that weren’t going to stress either of them.

When Cas told him to open his eyes, he did. And he gasped in surprise as he looked around. The stars visible from here were incredible. He could see almost every constellation he could name.

Dean looked at Cas. “This is amazing,” he said as crickets began to chirp from nearby, somewhere in the bushes.

Cas smiled as a shooting star jetted across the sky. Perfect timing. “Make a wish,” he teased lightly in Dean’s ear as he put his hands around Dean’s waist.

Now it was Dean’s turn to be the alpha male. “I already made it, buddy boy. Now you get to make it come true.”

Cas was shocked when Dean practically jumped on him, bringing him to his back and kissing him deeply.


	46. Never Wanna Lose This

They ended up on the ground next to the water, the sleeping bag deemed useless. Neither of them wanted to sleep anyway. Cas lay with his back to Dean’s stomach, so they were pretty much spooning. Dean wasn’t about to complain.

He had his arms locked tight around Cas’s torso, snuggling into his back. The angel was breathing slowly, but he obviously wasn’t asleep. It was a while before Dean decided to speak.

“Cas?” he said, sounding like a child afraid of a thunderstorm asking if they could sleep with their parents.

“Hm?” Cas said tiredly, like he actually needed sleep.

“I was just thinkin’,” Dean said, trying not to sound like a crybaby. “And I decided I don’t want this to end. Not ever.”

“Me neither,” Cas agreed, burrowing his head into the back of Dean’s hand. “But Crowley’s not going to let us spend any extra time with each other.”

Dean shook his head. “No, Cas. That’s not what I mean. I mean, even after he gets you, I’m gonna come for you. I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let you be there.”

Cas turned over so he was facing Dean. It was time he was sincere. “Dean,” he said, putting a hand on either side of Dean’s face, close to his neck. “You’re the bravest human I’ve ever met. But you’re also the most impulsive. You need to promise me- swear it- that you will stay alive when I’m gone. For both of us.”

Dean’s features went tense. He seemed to just remember the Flaw thing. “What happens if you die? Do I die?”

Cas shook his head. “No.”

Dean looked away. “Then I don’t know how that’s going to work,” he said, smiling slightly as he slid his hands up to Cas’s shoulders.

“Look, Dean. You know this can’t last. I just want you to be happy. I don’t want to remember you in grief. I want to remember you smiling,” Cas said softly. “I don’t care what it takes to get that.”

“Damn, I love it when you talk eternity to me,” Dean grinned, brushing his lips against Cas’s mouth gently.

Cas scoffed. “Easy, hunter. You still have over thirty hours. You don’t wanna waste them telling me what I already know,” he said, rubbing his hands down Dean’s neck, trying to be equally seductive, but coming off as a complete nerd. That’s what Dean loved about the Nephilim. Well, it was one of many things.

“Dammit,” Dean smiled. “Why didn’t we ever do this before?”

It was rhetorical, so obviously Cas took it as literal. “Probably because we were both afraid of the consequences.”

“And now we just don’t give a damn,” Dean nuzzled into Cas’s chest, needing every second of this and more.

“Fair enough,” Cas murmured into Dean’s hair, hugging him tightly. He smiled as he slipped his arms tighter around Dean. The night settled in, unfortunately, and exhaustion finally overtook the hunter.

As Dean slumbered in Cas’s arms, the Nephilim let his mind wander. Just because what was happening now gave him hope, he knew that just two days would never satisfy his want- his need- to be with Dean. 

He couldn’t lose this. The more time he spent with Dean, the less he wanted to go through with his plan with Crowley. But he’d given the demon his word. He’d promised, and he was willing to give anything for Dean. Even if it meant losing the most important thing to him in the whole world.

Dean slept soundly. Cas took that as an opportunity to enjoy watching Dean sleep. He slipped away from Dean and stood over him, watching his normally-cold features relax. That was the thing he loved best about Dean. When he was frustrated or hurt, sure, he was attractive. But the true side of him, the one he showed to almost no one, he was downright incredible.

“Dean Winchester,” Cas whispered, just wanting to feel the name on his lips. The sensation made him almost giddy.

Cas had to turn away after a few moments. There was only so much torture he could take. After all, that’s what this was. Just prolonging the agony of what he would surely have to face on Wednesday.

Cas went over to the edge of the small collection of water, sitting there and looking up, past the waterfalls and into the sky. The moon shone brightly, and the stars twinkled and danced alongside one another. It was amazing.

A small snake slithered by him, and Cas smiled as the tiny thing struck out and caught hold of a field mouse running by. Just like the eagles had. He glanced up at their nest, seeing both of them cuddled into one another. 

He smiled again, feeling another presence behind him. He glanced back, only to see Dean come up and sit beside him. The hunter smirked. 

“Stargazing?” he looked up.

Cas chuckled lightly. “You could say that.”

Dean laid his head on Cas’s shoulder, still looking up. “You know, I’ve never dreaded a Wednesday more than I dread this one.”

Cas took a deep breath. “I know that. And I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Dean replied. “If you hadn’t made that deal, we wouldn’t be here right now, and this night wouldn’t exist. Look me in the eye and tell me that it wasn’t worth it. Even for the memory of it.”

Cas shook his head, slipping an arm around Dean. “I can’t do that. That would be a lie.” 

“I just wanna find a way to convince Crowley that you’re not worth anything to him,” Dean admitted, earning another chuckle from Cas.

“And that would be an even bigger lie. I always thought demons and monsters were attracted to me because I was an angel. Now I see why they were so intent on getting me. It was either kill me and eliminate what everyone just assumes is a threat, or take me back and find some other use for my blood.”

Dean nodded, understanding. He sat up and looked into Cas’s eyes. “Well, you and I both know I’d die before that happened.”

Cas wanted that to be untrue. But it was extremely obvious that it was one of the most genuine things Dean had said all night. Cas took a while to respond, and by the time he thought of what he wanted to say, Dean had fallen asleep on his shoulder.

Cas eased Dean down into his lap, being as gentle as possible, shifting his body so the hunter looked more comfortable. 

“And I’d meet you there,” Cas whispered, and the words he spoke were just as true as Dean’s statement. The hunter wasn’t going anywhere, including Heaven or Hell, unless Cas was by his side.


	47. Chances

Dean had never thought he would wake up in Cas’s arms. But he did. And it was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He reached out lightly, pulling himself up using Cas’s shoulder as a support. 

Before he knew what was happening, he was leaning forward. 

You can’t do this, Dean, a part of him warned. You know this is wrong. You’re just going to make it harder for Cas.

Cas, however, was thinking something quite similar. He reached out toward Dean, taking the hunter into his arms, and their mouths joined. 

Castiel, he chided himself. The sinner among angels. 

But neither of them could voice their thoughts as Cas gently pulled Dean closer. The hunter tugged at the hem of Cas’s shirt, and Cas obediently ditched it. In turn, he pulled Dean’s shirt over his head.

It didn’t take long for both of them to be undressed, lying in the large sleeping bag that Cas had originally deemed unnecessary. They were pressed up against one another, enjoying the heat they both radiated. Dean turned over on his side so he was facing Cas.

“I know this doesn’t mean anything right now, and probably not ever again, but I want to keep this forever,” he said honestly.

“I do, too,” Cas assured him, pressing his head against Dean’s. Both of them closed their eyes. They each knew they were going to lose this, but they weren’t ready.

“This is our last day together, Dean. Let’s not waste it.”

Dean raised a suggestive eyebrow. He made Cas turn over so his bare back was facing the hunter. And from that point on, Cas was amazed at how gentle and loving he was with him. He closed his eyes as he felt Dean’s arms lock around him. This was something he never thought he would experience, but that he was damn thankful he did.

Dean moved his hands down Cas’s stomach, burying his face in his neck and breathing in his scent. Cas moved with him as best he could, but he had never done anything quite like that before.

“Dean,” he whispered as Dean finally backed off, which was a good while later. And even though Dean had been so tender, Cas wasn’t going to lie and say he wasn’t a bit sore.

“Yeah?”

Cas turned so he was facing the hunter again. “I can’t let Crowley take this. Not from you. Not from me. I promise I’ll figure something out.”

Dean smirked, looking tired. “I know you will.”

Cas sighed and got up, tossing the hunter his clothes. In no time, they were re-dressed and Cas was holding a hand out for Dean. This had only been Phase One of his master plan for the last two days. There was one more thing he wanted to do, and it was something that Dean hadn’t done for a long time if ever.

Dean took his hand, and suddenly, they were both adjacent to one another on what seemed to be sand. It was incredible. 

“Where are we?” he managed.

“Costa Rica,” Cas replied.

“I thought their beaches were as polluted as Lucifer’s crypts or something,” Dean took in the amazing sight, not quite believing it.

“Not these beaches,” Cas’s hand was still laced with Dean’s. 

“It’s frickin’ beautiful,” Dean admitted.

Cas smiled, then nodded at the dressing tents. “Get ready. We’re not here to stare at the water,” he was in between teasing and encouraging.

Dean nodded and did as he was told. Shockingly, Cas handed him a pair of black and green swim trunks. Cas had a navy blue pair himself, and in no time at all, both of them were out of the changing tents and at each other’s sides once again.

Dean looked at Cas questioningly. “Where is everybody?”

Cas smiled. “Further down the beach. This one is used only for surfing, and the waves aren’t so active today.”

Dean looked Cas up and down, thoroughly amazed by his muscular frame and perfect build. The hunter had only seen Cas shirtless once or twice, and both times had been very savory for him. But this? Dean was pretty sure his heart had stopped. Cas was standing across from him, everything perfect.

Dean was confused as to why this was so perfect for him, considering he had seen much more of the angel this morning, but he wasn’t complaining.

Both of them stepped forward, Cas taking Dean into his arms. Never before had he seen the older Winchester look so happy to see him standing there, and it was a feeling he never wanted to forget.

Cas slowly stepped out into the clear blue water, and he shivered. The small waves came up, lapping at the shore, and the sun casted Cas and Dean’s long shadows across the white sand. 

Dean joined him in the water, and a larger wave came up to him and swept his legs out from under him. He yelped as he fell beneath the water.

This of course, was beyond amusing to Cas, and he started laughing. Something he didn’t do often. Dean got up, now shivering and soaking wet, glaring playfully at Cas. He shoved into the Nephilim, knocking him down. 

Cas grabbed Dean’s wrist in time to pull him down with him. They were kneeling next to each other in the water, both laughing all the while. It was such a rare scene for these two, to see them so happy, and anyone watching would have been shocked and awed by just this one moment.

When they finally finished up in the water, which was a short while later, Dean turned to Cas, and he took his hand as they stepped out.

“You know, it’s been forever since I just… let myself go like that,” he pointed out.

The angel branched away from him to go get dressed. It was getting late, and the two of them needed to get a room for the night, or they could just sleep out here on the beach. Cas was okay with either, but it got cold at night, and he figured Dean wouldn’t be so impressed with the below-forty wind chill.

They returned to one another, and Cas held his hand out. Smirking, Dean took it. As far as days with Cas went, this one hadn’t been the worst. 

When they checked into their room, Dean was startled. It was really nice, and way out of what he’d thought was their budget range. He didn’t know how Cas got the money, and he honestly didn’t want to know.

He curled up on the bed, only to be enveloped immediately by Cas’s smaller body. Dean turned onto his side so he was facing the angel. 

“Thanks for all this,” he said quietly. 

“No,” Cas replied, moving closer to Dean. All this time, he hadn’t known what it really meant to love. Now he did. And now all he wanted was more. “I should be the one thanking you, Dean. This is better than I wanted it to be.”

Dean smiled, and then a playful look crossed his face. “So what was that I heard about you, Meg, and the pizza man?”

Cas caught on after a second of confusion, then nodded. “Well, I can show you better than I can tell you.”

Dean grinned, rolling over onto his back, his eyes almost lustful as he looked at the Nephilim. Cas smirked.

“Do your worst, angel,” Dean said.

“Well, I think it went something like this,” Cas said, moving so he was pretty much on top of the hunter.

Dean merely smiled, and everyone knows what came next.


	48. Back to Reality

The morning came too soon. Crowley would be waiting for them back at the bunker. That much was obvious. Cas woke up, shocked that he had been able to sleep. The room he’d rented looked just the same as any other hotel room. The only difference was that Dean was curled up next to him.

He got up, deciding to let Dean enjoy what looked like a peaceful sleep for a little while. For as long as he could, anyway. Cas wanted to explore the room anyway. He’d been a little… preoccupied, last night anyway. He wanted that feeling again. All the time.

Cas moved around, running a rand over the red silk of the comforter and sheets. The bed was huge and the frame was painted to look gold. It was extremely fancy, all in all. The walls were light brown, almost tan, with a strange swirled texture. The carpet was dark gray, and it wasn’t stained like most carpet Cas saw nowadays.

The place was amazing. Dean looked happy. Cas couldn’t ask for anything else. But it was almost noon. They’d slept in so late it had actually scared Cas. They needed to get back to the bunker before Crowley.

Cas bit his lip. He didn’t have a choice. He laid his hand on Dean’s shoulder and gently shook him awake, trying not to startle the hunter.

Dean groaned. “Huh? What- Cas? What’s up?” he yawned.

“It’s time to go home, Dean. I’m sorry,” Cas looked down at the hunter with sympathy in his eyes. He’d known this couldn’t last, but it still hurt.

“No,” Dean said stubbornly, balling the blanket up in his fists and turning over like a spoiled child being told to get ready for school. Cas only smiled at that, thinking it was somehow endearing.

“Come on,” Cas picked Dean up, lightly pulling the heavy blanket away from him. Then the two of them teleported out and back to the bunker. 

Shockingly, Crowley wasn’t there. Sam was lounging on the couch with a beer, reading a book on spirits. His feet were kicked up, and he looked at ease. Dean grinned, approaching his brother and ready to start telling him all about what Cas had planned.

“Dean,” Cas said, his voice low.

Dean ignored him for the time being. “Hey, Sammy. You have fun without us?”

“Oh, yeah,” Sam didn’t even glance back. “Tons of fun. I really don’t understand how people can read this stuff though.”

Dean looked at his brother, confused. “Sam, are you okay? You know you read those nerdy books all the time, right? Plus, you’re not looking so hot.”

Suddenly, Sam spun around and his eyes were black. he rushed toward Dean, making sounds that resembled snarling. Dean yelped in surprise and scuttled backwards so he bumped into Cas. The sounds Sam was making quickly faded into laughter.

Now, the younger Winchester was lying on the couch, Crowley standing over him, still laughing. At least he was back in his right vessel. Sam looked up at Dean, wide-eyed and panting slightly. Dean immediately felt guilty for letting that happen.

“Sorry, Dean. I just loved your reaction,” Crowley hooted. “You should have seen your face when I went black-eyes on you.”

“Knock it off, Crowley,” Cas came forward. “You want me? Here I am. Take me.”

“Ooh, I love it when it’s mutual,” Crowley responded, raising an eyebrow. He slid his hands down the front of his own jacket in a way that would be seductive if someone other than Crowley was doing it.

Cas looked at Dean as Crowley gave the entire bunker a smug look. He had won. It was over for them. 

“Goodbye,” Cas said.

Crowley placed a hand on Cas’s shoulder, and both of them disappeared in a bright flash. Dean opened his mouth to say something, but his angel was already gone.

“So where do we start?” Sam asked immediately, knowing that his brother wasn’t going to quit until Cas was back with them. 

Dean took a deep breath. “I have an idea, but it’s not a good one.”

 

This time, Crowley was far less sarcastic and far more angry as he shoved Cas down the literal stairs of Hell. 

“You’d think you guys could afford an elevator,” Cas muttered, knowing that’s what Dean would say if he was stuck in this situation. If he couldn’t be with Dean, he could at least remember him.

Crowley rolled his eyes. “You’re spending way too much time around Squirrel. Anyway, I’ve had enough of you coming and going, so I made you something,” he gestured to a large red circle on the floor, woven with intricate markings.

“What kind of trap is that?” Cas asked, confused.

“Well, I don’t know the name,” Crowley admitted, making Cas wince. “But I do know it can’t possibly be broken. It won’t hurt you, though. Don’t worry. I want you strong until I can figure out how much your head on a pike would go for.”

Cas winced yet again. “Look, Crowley. I really don’t think anyone wants my blood as bad as you make it seem.”

“It’s not that, you idiot. It’s your power. You’re already learning to control your Flaw. Once you learn the rest of the way, angel traps wouldn’t even affect you anymore. You don’t seem to get just how strong your species can become.”

Cas shrugged that one off as Crowley forced him inside the trap. The cracked wooden floor had a lot of breaks going through the red paint, yet it somehow still held him down perfectly. There was no way he could get out of this.

“So, do you have any new instruments of torture you’d like to try out?” Cas snapped from where he knelt in the red circle, which was, sickeningly enough, painted with human blood. Cas didn’t want to know where Crowley had gotten that from, if he was being honest with himself. He merely looked away from the trap.

“Of course not. Torturing you is boring,” Crowley responded. “We’re just going to hang out until someone offers me something really valuable.”

“Like what?”

“Kim Kardashian’s immortal soul,” Crowley snapped, being only somewhat sarcastic, clearly fed up with all of Cas’s whining and questioning.

Cas took it literally of course. “Isn’t Miss Kardashian the only one who could possibly offer that to you?”

“Oh, you’d be surprised,” Crowley didn’t look at Cas.

“Look, Crowley,” Cas said. “The last two days have been the best of my life. Ever. And you come to ruin it all. The least you could do is be honest with me, and maybe look me in the eyes and tell me what you’re planning.”

Crowley shot a glare in Cas’s direction, but he didn’t look directly at him. “I already told you, Castiel. Now stop talking.”

Cas sighed in frustration. So much for annoying him to the point of where he finally broke, because clearly that didn’t work out quite like he planned. The Nephilim sighed for the second or third time and leaned back against the invisible wall the trap created. He was officially stuck here.


	49. Not Again

“Please? Look, I was wrong about you. We need your help,” Dean bribed Chase. He’d told Sam the whole story with the gay demon, and Sam had agreed that it was their best bet as far as getting real help went. 

“Why should I believe you? You two kill my kind for fun every single day,” Chase spat. Morgan was asleep in his lap.

Dean frowned loudly. “Listen up. Cas trusts you, and that’s reason enough for me to trust you. If you care about Cas at all, you’ll help us out on this.”

“Ugh, what do you need?” Chase sighed, adjusting himself on the couch. He knew that the Winchesters watched out for those they cared about. And he knew Castiel was on that list. So that could only mean that the Nephilim really was in danger.

“We need you to go into Hell, help us get Cas, and then you’re done. We can handle the rest on our own,” Sam intervened, trying to sound a bit more polite than his opinionated older brother over there.

“What about Morgan? If I help you, Crowley will kill him,” Chase snapped.

“I’ll stay with him while you guys are gone. Then you can protect him,” Sam’s voice was gentle, and so was his expression. This was why Sam did more of the talking between the two of the Winchester brothers.

Chase considered it. Castiel was a good friend to him. And he was the type of person who always had his heart set on doing something right for someone else. Castiel had helped Morgan once or twice, and he had helped Chase when the two of them were at Crowley’s place. Of course he had to help the Winchesters save him. That’s what Castiel would do if their positions were reversed. 

Chase sighed. “Fine. But you better protect Morgan with your life, Moose.”

Sam squared his shoulders a bit at the nickname, but he didn’t react much further. “I will,” was all he said.

“Swear it.”

“I swear,” Sam amended, crossing his heart.

Chase knew that what he was agreeing to do was dangerous. Just as Cas had when he went back into the compound for him. As much as he hated to admit it, he’d come to care quite a lot for the angel.

“Do we have a deal?” Dean pressed.

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea,” Chase said, easing Morgan down onto the couch, frowning all the while.

“Nothing is going to happen to your little stutterbug,” Dean said the nickname is such a patronizing way that Chase wanted to slap him.

“Don’t call him that, and then it will be a deal.”

“Fine. Done,” Dean said with a grin.

Chase smirked at that. “Alright. Then gimme your hand, Winchester. I’ll take you right through the not so pearly gates.”

Dean grudgingly gave Chase his hand, and the two of them were in Hell in less than a second. The dark and dim and sucky halls in general was extremely depressing. Dean hated this place so damn much.

 

Cas winced as his body became stiff from not being able to move much. He could barely do anything because his body felt so heavy. This was such a strange trap, and he hated it with all he could possibly hate something.

The Nephilim glanced at Crowley, who was being uncharacteristically silent. He had his back turned and was murmuring into a small black phone. His voice sounded both angry and exasperated, and if Cas didn’t know it was about him, he would be concerned. But not right now. Not when he knew that Crowley was negotiating a price for his life.

Something crashed against the door suddenly, the metal making a hollow bell sound. Crowley looked up from whatever he was reading, mildly startled. 

“Well, it would appear we have some guests,” he said. “How quaint.”

Cas rolled his eyes skyward at that. Crowley had to know who was pounding on the door. It was the only explanation for him being so calm. Probably one of his demon friends. Maybe he’d changed his mind about torturing Cas.

The door swung open, and Cas couldn’t suppress his shock. Dean and Chase barged in, each wielding a fierce blade and a furious scowl. They exchanged a look before coming forward, neither taking their eyes off Crowley.

Cas saw by the concentration in their eyes that they had a plan. He hoped it was a good one, otherwise this would end poorly for all of them. His ending would suck anyway, but maybe he could at least get these two out of this.

Dean came forward, and he held his knife up to Crowley, an obvious challenge. The King of Hell chuckled.

Cas sighed. So much for a good plan. 

“Are you sure you want to do this, Dean?” Crowley glared, looking more than just frustrated with the Winchester. “Because if you and my homosexual servant want to walk out of here alive and with all your limbs, you still have a chance. If not, a whole lot of people you care about could get hurt.”

“If I walk out now,” Dean snarled. “You know I’ll never see him again. And that I won’t let happen. Dig?”

Crowley sighed. “Very well,” he got out his angel blade and came forward, and the hand to hand combat began. Dean punched and blocked and kicked, and Crowley did likewise. The two of them barely even glanced at Cas.

Which is why Cas was startled when Chase approached him. The demon held out an angel blade, giving Cas an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry,” he looked down at the blade. “But this is going to hurt.”

Cas yelped, then gasped, right as Chase sliced the weapon into his throat. Chase carefully extracted the Nephilim’s grace, and Cas winced as he felt the very strength drain from him. He bit his lip.

On the bright side, he could move once again. Cas got to his feet and did his level best to crawl out of the trap. He collapsed just outside the boarder, but he was quickly pulled back up by Chase, who offered the small vile of grace to the angel. Cas took it and held it in his hand, taking a deep breath.

Cas breathed it back in, welcoming the rush of energy, and grinned. “All that just to get me out of one trap?”

Chase chuckled under his breath. “Well, we didn’t have anything better as far as the freeing the Nephilim went. You should really get more in touch with your human side. Then you could have just waltzed right back out of the trap, grace and all.”

Cas panted slightly as he looked back to Dean and Crowley. And immediately, guilt washed over him.

Dean looked terrible. There was blood and bruises from head to toe, his jacket was torn and exposed bleeding parts of his skin, and his ankle was bent at a funny and unnatural angle that made Cas want to throw up.

The only thing that made it better was that Crowley looked pretty much the same way. He panted slightly as he lunged for Dean again. Neither of them seemed to notice what was happening several feet away, which was all manners of amusing to the Nephilim.


	50. Is it Over?

“Dean!” Cas intervened, slicing his angel blade deep into Crowley’s shoulder. It wasn’t deep, but the demon cried out.

Dean took the opportunity and rushed over to stand beside Cas and Chase. The three of them glared furiously at the King of Hell, who seemed to be struggling to recompose himself and face them one more.

“Castiel,” Crowley grinned, holding his shoulder. “Again, you continue to surprise me. Perhaps I have underestimated you and your little club.”

“That’s enough, son of a bitch,” Dean snarled. “You lost. It’s over.”

“You think I’m easy, don’t you,” Crowley straightened up. “You think I’m just going to kick back and let the three of you walk out like nothing happened?”

“No, but we think that if you don’t, it’ll be the stupidest decision you’ve made in a long time,” Chase came forward. “And that’s saying quite a lot.”

“You three are nothing. I could snap my fingers and get rid of Dean and you right now, my demonic friend. Castiel, well, I still need Castiel.”

Dean clenched his fists and moved forward. Crowley sighed, as if in irritation more than anything else. He made a quick downward motion with his hand, and Dean fell hard, landing on his back at Crowley’s feet. 

Both Chase and Cas went to make a move, but Crowley knelt down and placed a blade at Dean’s throat. Dean tipped his head back a bit to avoid getting his neck sliced open by the gleaming silver weapon. He gritted his teeth, not moving.

“Crowley, don’t,” Cas said, panic taking over him.

“What are you going to do about it, Castiel?”

“You said you need me alive. You also said if Dean dies, I’ll die, right?” Cas snapped, his hands trembling against his will.

Crowley chuckled. “I’m sure I could make some profit off of you within a year.”

“You’re acting unusually psychotic,” Dean muttered.

Crowley began to move the blade sideways. That’s when Cas lost every bit of self control he’d been using to keep himself from slitting Crowley’s throat.

“Crowley. Let him go,” Cas said.

“Come now Castiel. We’ve been through this whole song and dance twice in the past week. Why don’t you just accept that I’ve won?” Crowley pulled the knife away, but only by an inch. It still hovered dangerously above Dean’s chest.

“It’s not over til it’s over,” Chase chimed in.

Cas looked up upon hearing his voice. Somehow, in the time it had taken Cas to make one simple point, he’d gotten to Crowley and placed a knife at his back.

Crowley sighed. “Go on, then. Kill me.”

Chase looked confused. Part of Cas wanted him to shove the blade into the demon’s chest cavity and rip his heart out with the dull edge of the knife. The other, more human side of him knew that this was his fight.

Crowley moved in the blink of an eye. Literally. Cas blinked to clear his head, and when he opened his eyes, Crowley had Chase pinned against the wall by his throat. The demon struggled against the stronger demon, but it was useless. 

Cas moved at that point. He lunged, knocking Crowley away from Chase, sending him tumbling to the side. Crowley sprung to his feet, letting his angel blade slide into his hand. Cas closed his eyes and took out his own weapon. He didn’t want this to end with more death, but he would do what he had to to keep Dean safe.

“Alright, Castiel. What do you say we finish this? Once,” Crowley looked toward Dean and Chase, who now stood, defensive as ever. “And for all.”

“I say yes,” Cas responded.

 

Meanwhile, Sam and Morgan were worried sick about their friends. Morgan looked at Sam with fear in his eyes.

“W-Will th-they b-be okay, d-do you th-think?” he stammered, glancing at Sam, who tried to look at least somewhat at ease.

“I don’t know,” the hunter admitted.

“Ch-Chase is t-tough. I-I d-don’t know y-your brother, b-but he s-sounds s-strong. A-and C-Castiel? H-He is more p-powerful than e-even h-he can i-imagine,” Morgan lowered his eyes, as if he was repeating what he’d been told a million times.

“Well, I know for a fact that Dean is strong,” Sam replied, thinking that he would have to research what made some people stutter when they talked. He was curious. “And Cas is stronger, so I think they’ll be okay.”

Morgan said nothing, only nodded solemnly. He suddenly gasped as if he couldn’t catch his breath. He quickly got up and returned with what Sam realized was an inhaler. After taking it, he looked at the younger Winchester.

“A-asthma,” he said with a tired smile. “A-and a-anxiety.”

Sam smiled and nodded at that. “Oh, okay. You had me worried for a second. I thought you were one of those time traveling demons and you just went out and ran a marathon and then teleported back here,” it was a bad joke, but it did ease the tension.

Morgan chuckled. “F-funny.”

Sam leaned back in his chair and looked up, hoping his big brother would be alright without him. Dean usually was.

“S-So,” Morgan coninued, surprising Sam with his chattiness. “Y-You Winchesters d-do a lot o-of h-hunting?”

“You could say that,” Sam nodded.

“W-What w-was the m-most d-dangerous thing y-you g-guys ever d-did?”

Sam thought about it. “Uh, well…” he launched into the story of the apocalypse and how they stopped it.

 

Cas tensed, taking a swing at Crowley with his blade. Crowley merely backed up and avoided taking any damage from Cas’s attack. Cas sighed, knowing that this could only end one of two ways. And either way, there would be more death.

“Crowley, stop,” Cas said in between a lunge. “I don’t wanna kill you.”

Crowley rolled his eyes, stalking forward with his blade at the ready. Cas knew that he couldn’t hold him off any longer. This would surely be Crowley’s last strike.

“Do your worst, angel.”

Crowley and Cas rushed each other, and Crowley kicked Cas hard in the chest, knocking him back against a wall. Cas winced as he collapsed. He kept his eyes down, realizing that it was over.

It couldn’t end like this. It just couldn’t. There was still so much he needed to say to Dean, still so much he’d wanted to do. 

He closed his eyes and waited. When nothing happened, he looked up. Chase had slipped in between them and was now pushing Crowley back with all his strength. He looked back at Cas, his expression strained. His eyes showed pain.

“Go, Castiel. Take the Winchester and get out of here,” Chase managed as Crowley forced him back against the wall.

Cas crawled over to Dean, managing to stand up. “What about you?”

“I’ll be fine,” Chase growled, shoving Crowley back. “Go!”

Cas locked hands with Dean and transported them both back to the bunker. He heard Chase cry out in pain just befored they flickered out of sight.


	51. Nope

Dean threw his arms around Cas. “Cas, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Cas looked down. “But Chase-“

“He’ll be okay,” Dean said, trying not to show that he was secretly worried about the demon that Cas had made friends with. “He’ll be fine.”

Cas and Dean held onto each other for a few seconds, when suddenly, Crowley reappeared like freaking Houdini, and he looked more furious than Cas or Dean had ever seen him. And considering the past few days, that was a lot.

“Enough!” he growled. “I’ve had it. You return to Hell now, Castiel, or I will kill Dean in front of your eyes and drag you back.”

Cas took a deep breath, gently pushing Dean backwards. His eyes begged the Winchester to stay out of this. He came forward, towards Crowley, his eyes never leaving the demon’s face. He was no longer afraid to die. Now he was only afraid of what would happen to Dean if he did.

“I’m done, Crowley. I won’t let you hurt Dean, and I won’t let you hurt me. Not again. It’s over,” Cas responded, his voice low.

“Very well, Nephilim. Let’s finish this,” Crowley said, seeming to finally realize that Cas meant it. This needed to stop, no matter how it ended.

Cas lunged forward, making the first move. Thankfully, Dean gathered enough sense to stay out of just this one fight. It was two beings far stronger than him, and he seemed to get that he couldn’t do anything. For once, Dean wasn’t being his usual reckless self. He was being cautious and alert and doing what Cas wanted.

Crowley easily dodged to the side and brought his elbow into Cas’s chest. Cas managed to draw back fast enough to only be clipped by the attack. Crowley followed up by moving forward at Cas, lashing out with his fist. Cas used his forearm to block the blow, then retaliated with a swing of his own.

Crowley blocked and slammed the handle of the blade into Cas’s skull. He gritted his teeth as his vision was knocked blurry. It took him a moment to realize he was on the ground. Crowley approached him, grinning.

Cas suddenly slammed both his heels into Crowley’s shin, bringing the demon to his knees. He followed up by punching him in the jaw. Of course, Crowley took both hits well and was able to get up again, using the bladed edge of the knife and burying it in Cas’s stomach. Cas felt pain unlike anything he’d ever felt before.

“Cas!” he heard Dean yell as he collapsed onto his side. 

He squeezed his eyes shut. No. No, he wasn’t going to die like this. He was not going to die like this.

Cas gritted his teeth together and forced himself to stand up. The pain rushing through his abdomen was unlike anything he’d felt in a long time, and he tried his best to stay on his feet. But hell, he was weak.

“Cas, come on,” Dean murmured.

Cas managed to stay up, and he rushed forward, copying what Crowley had just done to him. And he stabbed the demon in the shoulder.

Crowley groaned in pain as he landed hard on his back. Neither of them could move very well at this point, so they both backed away from each other. Cas leaned heavily on the couch, trying to tell Dean through his eyes that he was okay. Even though he felt like he was going to throw up.

The demon got up, and he came forward at full speed. Cas anticipated the move, somehow, and was able to shove Crowley backwards before kicking him in the chest. Then he moved forward and came toward Crowley.

Crowley attempted to stab Cas again, but Cas twisted around the blade, jumping up and stomping his foot down hard enough to make Crowley drop the weapon. 

Crowley was unarmed, and Cas used the opportunity. He hit Crowley again and again, wishing he would just pass out already. The demon lunged past Cas this time, and he retreived his blade. By now, both of them were worn and they both looked like complete shit. Crowley was faster this time and was able to get Cas down.

“Cas!” Dean shouted again. He moved forward, ready to kick Crowley’s ass, but Crowley held up a hand to stop him, gesturing at Cas. If Dean tried anything, Crowley wouldn’t fight back. He’d go straight for Cas.

Dean backed off and watched as Cas got back up. He kicked Crowley in the stomach, bringing the demon to his knees once again. Then Cas brought his foot up into Crowley’s face, seinding him toppling backwards. 

Crowley was up again in an instant. He came at Cas, slashing at him and tearing a deep cut in the front of his coat. By the way Cas groaned, Dean knew that Crowley had done some real damage.

Cas staggered back, gasping a bit, like he couldn’t quite breathe. Dean wasn’t suprised. Crowley had gotten him just below his throat. It would heal, but it wouldn’t heal fast enough. Cas chewed on his lip, trying to distract himself from the pain in his neck and stomach from where Crowley had gotten him with the knife.

“Please, Cas,” Dean whispered. Then his voice returned to him, and he screamed at the angel to do something. “Come on!”

Cas quickly changed tactics. Even though he was weak, he was still small and fast. He could use that to his advantage. 

“Hey, Crowley, look, a piano,” he wheezed, trying to stall as best he could to gain his strength back, pointing at the corner of the room behind Crowley. 

Crowley rolled his eyes. “That’s weak even for you, Castiel.”

Cas shrugged, having caught his breath. “It was worth a try,” he moved forward and kicked Crowley hard in the chest. 

The demon hit the ground hard, and Cas was ready. He put his knife at Crowley’s throat, only to be shoved off an instant later. 

Cas got right back up, barely even feeling the pain of his wounds anymore. He came forward as Crowley managed to get up. 

“Please stop, Crowley. I don’t want to kill you.”

Crowley growled and lunged at Cas once again, this time catching him in the shoulder with the knife. Cas only winced. He came forward and pushed Crowley so hard that the demon went tumbling.

As Crowley got up, panting and tired, he looked up at Cas. The young Nephilim seemed to be glowing. And Crowley gasped. Cas was smiling, and the wounds on his body disappeared in the blink of an eye.

“Y-You’re controlling it. Your Flaw,” Crowley breathed.

Cas looked over at Dean and smiled, straightening up. “Dean’s no flaw. But yes, I suppose I learned how to control my powers just now,” he couldn’t stop smiling. He had never felt so much power. He was finally at full strength and utilizing his abilities as a Nephilim. And it felt good. The shadows of his wings spread out on the wall behind him.

Crowley finally seemed to realize that he couldn’t win this fight. And in a panic, he did the only thing he could think of to do.

He took his knife and hurled it at Cas’s chest.


	52. Sweet Sacrifice

Cas merely closed his eyes. He knew that this was truly it. He waited for the feeling of the blade piercing his heart. He heard the wet thunk of a knife colliding with a body, but he felt no pain. No pain at all. 

Cas opened his eyes in confusion. And what he saw made his blood freeze in his veins. Dean lay at his feet, trembling. The knife was stuck in his chest. The older Winchester was gasping, curling into a ball and placing his hands around the knife in his stomach. Blood already began to pool on the floor.

“No!” the voice that came from his throat was foreign. It sounded like a stranger speaking through him. Without any knowledge of what he was doing, he threw his own knife and watched as it buried itself in Crowley’s heart. The demon cried out in pain and flickered out of view, dead and gone forever.

Cas dropped to his knees. “No, no, no, no, no!” he repeated that one word again and again as if it would change the situation. As if saying it would erase it. 

No. he couldn’t lose Dean. Not now. Not after all this time he’d spent protecting him. And this was all he got out of it. For the hunter to die anyway, and over him? This wasn’t right. They’d been winning. Cas had been protecting Dean. 

He gently wrapped his arms around Dean, pulling the man into his lap, not able to stop the tears. He shook him lightly, like a child trying to wake their mother up during a thunder storm. Dean’s eyes were over half closed.

“Dean, no,” Cas sobbed, finally losing control. “I won’t lose you. I worked so hard to get you back.” 

“Cas,” Dean groaned. “Get it out,” his whispered, and the meaning of the request was clear. But Cas was frozen.

Hesitantly, he wrapped his hand around the handle of the blade and lightly pulled on it. The sickening and wet sound he heard made him want to throw up. But steeling himself, he pulled the weapon out of Dean’s chest, tossing it to the side. He laid a hand on the wound and closed his eyes.

“Come on,” he said quietly. “Work!”

He tried to heal it. But nothing happened. His powers were failing again. No. How was this possible? He’d finally done what everyone had been saying he needed to. He’d learned how to control his powers.

“No!” Cas screamed. “Please! Please work!”

“Cas, hey,” Dean reached up, his eyes only partially open. He was smiling a weak smile. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. It’s not okay,” Cas whimpered, holding Dean closer.

“I would do it again in a heartbeat,” Dean replied simply. His voice broke. A single tear leaked from his eye and slid down the side of his face.

“No, please. Dean, you can’t do this. I need you,” Cas sobbed again.

“It’s too late Cas,” Dean smiled weakly again. 

Cas shook his head, his heart pounding so loud. Panic at the thought of losing Dean forever raced through him. “Why did you do that?”

Dean’s smile didn’t falter. He reached up with his left arm and cupped Cas’s cheek gently in his hand. “Because. I love you, Cas.”

Cas held Dean closer, savoring these last few precious moments with him. “I love you, too, Dean. I always have.”

“I know,” Dean whispered, coughing. His hand fell away from Cas’s cheek. He coughed again, blood beginning to dribble from the corner of his mouth. His eyes went in and out of focus, and he trembled harder. “Not gonna lie… I-I’m kinda… scared, right now.”

“Please don’t be afraid,” Cas said gently. “I’m here. I’ll protect you.”

Cas squeezed his eyes shut, watching in utter horror as Dean shifted in his arms, bruying his face in Cas’s shoulder. He sobbed once again. He had never felt so completely helpless. He thought of all they’d been through in the past week. 

Cas lowered his mouth to Dean’s and kissed him, being as gently as he possibly could. The metallic taste of the hunter’s blood filled his mouth, and Cas couldn’t help but sob again. And Dean didn’t move at all.

When he pulled back, Dean’s green eyes were on him, despite being mostly closed. He chewed his lip so hard it bled. There was no point in getting help. Dean was already mostly gone. The only chance was Cas healing him. And his powers had failed him just when he needed them most. 

“I’m a monster,” he whispered. “I did this to you.”

“No, Cas,” Dean whimpered in pain. “I did this to me. And I would do it again.”

“Don’t say that,” Cas pleaded. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to end. I was finally with you again. I could protect you.”

“And you have,” Dean gasped, his eyes going wide. His soft breathing turned into labored gasping. “Cas?”

“It’s alright. I’m still here,” Cas said, seeing that Dean was beginning to fade away. He could barely see anymore. Cas knew that when someone died, vision was the first to go. Dean could still hear and feel him.

Sobbing again, Cas reached down and locked hands with Dean. He was shaking just as hard as the hunter.

“Please, stay with me, Dean. I don’t want you to go,” Cas begged.

Dean shook his head slowly. His voice turned to a breathy whisper. “I’m done, Cas. I did what I could.”

Cas suddenly felt a wave of guilt. Dean had been holding on for him, all this time. He knew what he had to say, but God, he didn’t want to say it. Saying it would end what Cas had worked so hard to continue.

Dean was fighting to keep his breath, and he was shaking harder than ever before. He looked like the effort of keeping himself alive was the most he’d ever had to put into anything. He was clearly trying to live. For Cas.

“Okay, Dean. Okay,” he whispered gently. “I love you, with all of my heart. And thank you so much. You saved me. But this fight is over. I’ll miss you. I’ll miss you so much. But please don’t do anything else for me. I don’t deserve it.”

Dean opened his mouth, wanting to speak, to protest, but Cas laid a gentle finger on his lips, silencing him. He brought his mouth down to Dean’s again, and just before pulling away, he let his cheek hover in front of Dean’s mouth, still feeling his warm breath.

Dean relaxed in Cas’s arms, and the Nephilim smiled sadly as the Winchester finally closed his eyes. To let Dean know that he was still there, he rubbed his back and shushed him in a gentle tone.

Cas closed his eyes. He’d been so selfish. Constantly thinking of protecting himself and not losing Dean. Now it had cost Dean his life. 

Dean’s final breaths were quiet and slow, and he seemed… happy. Like dying wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to a guy. 

Cas, kneeling over the body of the one he loved, knew that was true.

“I love you,” he repeated. “I love you so much. I’m going to miss you this year,” he said quietly. “More than anything. I’ll see you soon.”

And that was it. Cas closed his eyes.


	53. Impossible

I remember years ago

Someone told me I should take

Caution when it comes to love

I did

I did

And you were strong and I was not

My illusion, my mistake

I was careless, I forgot

I did

And now when all is done

There is nothing to say

You have gone and so effortlessly

You have won

You can go ahead tell them

 

Tell them all I know now

Shout it from the rooftop

Write it on the skyline

All we had is gone now

Tell them I was happy

And my heart is broken

All my scars are open

Tell them what I hoped would be

Impossible, impossible

Impossible, impossible

 

Falling out of love is hard

Falling for betrayal is worst

Broken trust and broken hearts

I know

I know

Thinking all you need is there

Building faith on love and words

Empty promises will wear

I know

I know

And now when all is gone

There is nothing to say

And if you’re done with embarrassing me

On your own

You can go ahead tell them

 

Tell them all I know now

Shout it from the rooftop

Write it on the skyline

All we had is gone now

Tell them I was happy

And my heart is broken

All my scars are open

Tell them what I hoped would be

Impossible, impossible

Impossible, impossible

 

Ooh, impossible

 

I remember years ago

Someone told me I should take

Caution when it comes to love

I did

 

Tell them all I know now

Shout it from the rooftop

Write it on the skyline

All we had is gone now

Tell them I was happy

And my heart is broken

All my scars are open

Tell them what I hoped would be

Impossible, impossible

Impossible, impossible

Impossible, impossible

 

I remember years ago

Someone told me I should take

Caution when it comes to love

I did


	54. Over and Done

Cas wasn’t sure how long he stayed that way, holding Dean close to him. A half hour? An hour? It didn’t matter. Because as we all know, time can’t heal everything. Especially this. This heartache was unlike anything Cas had ever felt. He barely looked up when Sam came in, the younger Winchester freezing in place at what he saw.

“C-Cas, w-what-?” Sam stammered, not even able to finish the sentence.

He had been waiting with Morgan when Chase had reappeared in their house, looking exhausted. He’d told them that Crowley had followed Cas and Dean back to their world, and he was badly wounded. After quickly making sure that Chase would be okay, Sam left him and Morgan and raced back to the bunker. But he was too late.

“I’m so sorry, Sam,” Cas managed. The real hurt, what Crowley had warned him about, had already set in. 

“Oh… no. Please tell me it’s not true,” Sam’s eyes teared up as he knelt down beside the angel and his brother.

“He’s gone,” Cas managed, looking down at Dean, having run out of tears by this point. Sorrow was the only thing keeping him from passing out. He held the older Winchester close, shaking his head.

Cas was mildly startled when Sam threw his arms around him, sobbing. “Cas, why? How did this happen?”

The Nephilim eased Dean to the ground, then tightened his arms around Sam as well. “He saved my life.”

Sam squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in Cas’s shoulder. He kept crying, and Cas knew that he had to protect Sam now. Even though the only emotion he could feel now was remorse and pain.

Cas looked down, misery finally setting in. A whole year or this before he finally died? He wasn’t sure he could take it.

Sam stayed that way for a long time before he finally could look at his brother again. He clawed at his eyes and laid a hand on his brother’s chest.

“He looks… happy,” he sniffed, tears still streaming down his face. 

Cas finally brought himself to look at Dean. And Sam was right. There was an expression of peace on his face that Cas hadn’t seen in a long time. Cas wasn’t sure what came over him, but he smiled. It wasn’t a happy smile. Far from it. But it was a content smile. Dean was finally free from all the worry and pain he’d been experiencing his whole life.

 

 

A Few Weeks Later

 

It had taken them a while, but they finally got everyone who would want to show up to come to the funeral. Thanks to the Winchesters career of saving people, there was a good amount of people there.

Sam was the one to come up first. He had tears in his eyes, but aside from that, he looked okay. Better. Like in the time his brother had been gone, he’d grown up. Not physically, but mentally. He moved on. Got stronger.

“A lot of you came today because at one point or another, my brother Dean saved you. He did that a lot actually,” Sam began, his voice breaking a bit. He cleared his throat. “But I think he saved me more than anyone. When I was a kid, he was just big brother Dean. The one who taught little Sammy to string a bow and throw a knife. But the thing is, he wasn’t just my brother. He was my best friend. I know that most of you knew the ruthless hunter Dean made himself out to be, but trust me when I say that I’ve never had someone care so much about me. The thing is, we Winchesters are pretty notorious. And I always thought that this job was what I wanted to be remembered for. But now, I see that I will never forget Dean, not because he was a great hunter, but because he was a great brother.”

A few nods as Sam stepped down and went over to Cas. Cas gave him a half hug, something the two had been doing more and more since Dean’s death.

Cas watched as more people, including Garth and Charlie, came up and said a few things that made Cas’s heart ache to be with Dean again. He didn’t want to admit it was over. He closed his eyes and looked down. It had only been a few weeks and Cas had already given up on moving on.

Crowley hadn’t been lying. Cas truly did feel nothing but the weight of what he’d lost. Even though he put on a show for Sam. It wasn’t a convincing one, but it pacified the hunter for just then. 

Cas sighed when the service was over. He’d laid a rose down, just like everyone else, but unlike everyone else, he had whispered something to Dean as he laid it down. The rest had just been crying on exchanging memories.

“I’m coming soon, Dean. Soon,” he swore.

He stood up and went back with the others, despite the ache in his heart.


	55. Little Epilogue

Cas sat on the edge of the bed. In four minutes, it would be a year. One year since Dean had died. He was thin from not eating, his eyes red from not sleeping, and he was only getting worse each day. But he’d come downstairs this morning, happy. 

When Sam had asked him what the occasion was, Cas couldn’t bear to tell him that it was today. Sam had known for a while that it was coming, and he’d accepted it. But Cas couldn’t say it was today.

Chase and Mogan would take care of Sam. The four had become almost family in the last yeaar, and with Cas gone, Morgan and Chase were more than willing to keep an eye out for Sam.

Cas closed his eyes as he felt himself grow even weaker than before. And he collapsed backwards onto the bed as his final breath left his lungs.

 

He opened his eyes to blinding white light. It was Heaven. He’d actually gone to Heaven. So this was it. He was really dead.

“Cas?” he heard, and he turned around.

“Dean?”


End file.
